


The Way It Goes

by pheonix85



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 17:44:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18254750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pheonix85/pseuds/pheonix85
Summary: “Please don’t tell me there’s a 12-year-old kid in the car.”“He’s 13.”except she's notcompletelyjoking.orWhen May Parker's younger sister is murdered by her boss, she and her husband take her nephew in as their own. This, of course, comes with its own set of challenges when the missing variable from his life decides to reinsert itself when Peter is chosen for a coveted Stark Internship. The only problem?He doesn't have a clue.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> i was doing some Iron Man rewatches and the scene in IM3 where Maya shows up, I just couldn't help myself. i swear, this is the only other Tony as biodad fic i'll write. 
> 
> this is really short, but it's just the prologue and will feed right into right before HOCO. I am not interested in rehashing specific scenes from Homecoming, but this story will deal with events during the timeline we didn't see in the movie and about a month or so after the movie wraps.

_**2013** _

 

 

The phone rings a few days before New Year's Eve, and May just...knows. She’s seen the news. She’s heard Aldrich Killian’s name on the television when they’ve been talking about the Mandarin, and she hears them talk about AIM. And even if he’s not said anything, she’s sure Ben knows too, just by the look he had shot her over Peter’s head the night the news broke about the fight in Miami.

 

So when the FBI calls and says to her---

 

**_I’m so sorry, ma’am, but I regret to have to inform you…_ **

 

\---she steadies herself with her hand on the kitchen counter and Ben hurries over to grab her by the waist and takes the phone. She manages to lower herself into a dining room chair and bury her head in her hands before breaking into a sob.

 

Thank goodness Peter is at Ned’s.

 

May had always worried about Maya. Her baby sister was tireless in pursuit of opportunities for her research. Maya had met Aldrich years before, _months_ before she’d even found out about the baby---about Peter---and by the time she’d realized she was late and taken the pregnancy test, she had already become invested in the idea of working for the man and his think tank.

 

“You don’t understand,” Maya had said, shaking her head at May. “My work could revolutionize cellular regeneration on a level most have only been able to dream of. May, we’re talking about limbs and organs.”

 

She had considered her options, of course. The cost to raise a child on a researcher’s salary was daunting, and May would never forget sitting up with her and holding her hand while Maya tearfully weighed the pros and cons of keeping the child and in the end, decided she couldn’t get rid of the baby. May couldn't forget how Ben had stepped into the living room, setting his hands gently on Maya’s shoulders and told her that May and himself would help her out as much as they could, every step of the way.

 

“Who...what about the father?” May had asked quietly, once Ben had gone to bed. Maya was staring off out the windows towards the city, seemingly lost in thought, and she shook her head at the question, running a hand through her hair.

 

“He’s nobody,” Maya told her. “No one important, unreliable. He wouldn’t want anything to do with the kid, and I’d rather not deal with him.”

 

May had objected, only a little, but in the end, it had been Maya’s decision.

 

The body comes home for identification. May lets Peter come with her because she’s not sure she’d ever forgive herself if she didn’t. The coroner in Florida prepared it well; Maya looks pale and cold, but like she’s sleeping---Peter can’t see where the bullet entered her body and ended her life.

 

They cremate her, in the end, and scatter her ashes near the ocean.

 

Peter has been staying with them for so long, it’s not so much a change. Maya had been so busy with her work, she’d only been home every couple of months, so although Peter is an absolute wreck over it, at least he’s in a home he knows, with people he loves and who love him. They are granted full custody until they can get the adoption goes through, and when they ask, only once, Peter nods and says he wants to be a Parker too.

 

May thinks about the Battle of New York only once, during all of this. Thinks about how Maya had come home with Peter after that day, a panicked and lost look on her face after being trapped in the city. May and Ben had gotten them both cleaned up, fed them a meal, and Ben had sat with Peter for a long time in his bedroom alone, trying to calm him down after the frightening events. It was only when he was asleep for sure that Maya had settled completely in the living room with May, curled up in a blanket on the corner of the couch with a glass of wine in her hand. She had looked out the window, up into the night sky where a wormhole had been only 12 hours before and without preamble, told her sister, “It’s Tony Stark.”

 

May had been confused. Tony Stark was the name on _everyone’s_ lips for the day and, she expected, for quite some time to come. It was fairly clear that it wasn’t just the Chitauri he had spared the city from, that it wasn’t a given he would survive flying up into the wormhole. Maya didn’t look back at her once, only repeated herself, and then some.

 

“Tony Stark." Maya's voice hadn't even trembled, though it was so soft May almost wasn't sure she'd heard the next part correctly. "Peter’s father is Tony Stark.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is having A Week

“Sir, if I may; there has been another sighting of the Queen’s vigilante known as Spiderman.”

 

Tony’s brow raised at the notification. He kept poking at the arm of the latest Mark he was working on until he was satisfied. It swiveled around when he pushed it away and spun in place on his stool, facing out towards the open space of his lab.

 

“Talk to me, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

 

The AI didn’t speak, opting instead to produce the latest video of a figure in a sweatsuit swinging into traffic, putting themselves in between a bus and an oncoming vehicle, catching it with what looked to be only their hands. Tony scrutinized the footage, watching from different directions and speeds, before he sighed and stood, heading towards his workbench.

 

“F.R.I, you get enough data to approximate the physical stats of this...Spiderperson yet?”

 

“Based on the information gathered, I have been able to estimate this individual is most probably male, a height of 5 feet 8 to 10 inches and approximate 145 pounds. Based on this and other attributes, I estimate the subject is somewhere between 14 and 17 years of age.”

 

Tony winced. Way too young to be swinging around the streets of New York, but he supposed a teenager could be doing way worse. He crossed his arms, rubbing his chin while the AI began to replay the kid’s greatest hits. He watched as the masked hero performed a variety of tasks, all from rescuing a cat in a tree, to defending a woman on a street corner being attacked by muggers.

 

“You got any leads on his identity?”

 

“I have analyzed his patrol patterns for the last two weeks. The individual has stayed in the vicinity of the Queens borough and always spends the end of his nights in the same four-block radius. From that, I obtained what information I could about the residences and narrowed it down to four individuals with the aforementioned attributes.”

 

“Okay, hit me.”

 

The screen lit up with four user profiles photos, names, and physical stats next to them. All the kids looked too young to be in the business of defending the world against bad guys, but, Tony supposed, he didn’t really have a say in that at all. The best he could do was identify them, watch out for them and maybe, he considered shamelessly, they could be of some use to him one day.

 

He didn’t have any more time to think about it too much. In the corner of his lab, a light flickered on and an alarm sounded, and F.R.I.D.A.Y changed the subject.

 

“Sir, there’s been an---”

 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, of course there has.” He pushed off where he was leaning and turned in the direction of the main area of the Compound to prepare for a briefing on what the team was getting into _now_ ; the last he was aware, Cap and Crew were somewhere close to the West coast on the African continent and he wasn’t looking forward to hearing the details of what had triggered such an alert. “F.R.I, keep an eye on those four potential Spiderpeople and send me a message when you get a positive ID. Nothing less than 99.9%, alright?”

 

“Understood, boss.”

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, what Cap's team was getting into, as delicately as Tony could think of it, was _some very deep shit_.

 

Tony stared at the footage of the smoking office building as it played over and over in the briefing room, projected towards the far end of the meeting room on a blank wall. He scratched at his forehead, sighing deeply.

 

He didn’t really have time for this. He had a presentation at MIT tomorrow that he needed to put the finishing touches on. It was the first time he’d be demoing the retro framing device he'd developed and tested exhaustively. He wasn’t too concerned with the technology itself---he never was, when he designed it---but the follow up to it, the announcement of the grant money, had his stomach twisted in knots.

 

Pepper had been the one to really spearhead the effort, she had been instrumental in organizing and figuring out the funding for the September Foundation, but Pepper hadn't spoken to him in weeks. Their last go-round had been a doozy and he’d said more than one thing he hadn’t meant, and had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn’t going to be able to guarantee Iron Man would no longer be in their lives.

 

To which she had made clear, in no uncertain terms, was simply unacceptable.

 

Tony had bent first. It had taken less than 24 hours of no communication and a misplaced basket of laundry for him to call her, only to have her assistant answer the phone and tell him that _Ms. Potts cannot come to the phone right now_ and when he inquired when she _would_  be available, had been told that Ms. Potts would _let him know herself_ , and he’d been hung up on.

 

It took about a week after that for him to recant his bit about the Iron Man suit, but the damage had been done. Pepper’s things disappeared from their shared suite and any communication between her office and himself was sent by her assistant or delivered by Happy (who wanted to make it clear he was 100% Team Pepper in all this, which was making things so* much easier).

 

He knew he needed to show her. The promises he had been making regarding his Avenger’s activities had been empty for too long and so he had decided sometime between the second and third week of radio silence that he was going to stay away from the suit from then on and keep it that way.

 

He was trying to ignore the voice growing louder in his mind with every passing day that maybe this was it; maybe he had finally ruined this.

 

He shook his head with a huff, desperate to think of something else. He turned his attention back to the recording in front of him, set on a loop. Secretary Ross stood there, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face, glaring in Tony’s direction.

 

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Tony asked finally.

 

“Rogers and his team are on their way back stateside as we speak,” Ross began. “I understand you have a prior commitment tomorrow, but as soon as you’ve wrapped that up, I think it’s imperative that we get together and discuss our options going forward.”

 

“Options?” Tony asked, narrowing his eyes.

 

“For the Avengers Initiative. The international community is demanding answers. You and yours have reached the end of their leash, Stark.”

 

Tony gritted his teeth. He wanted to tell the man that there was no leash, that there wouldn’t be a leash and that he could fuck right off, thank you very much.

 

But the image rolled again, and he saw Wanda lift Rumlow into the air and watched as the man exploded, saw the panicked faces of the civilians on the ground. He sighed hard.

 

“I don’t know what you’re looking for, but Steve isn’t gonna play your games,” Tony replied. Ross looked ominous in the shadows created by the projector. “And we do things together, or we don’t do them at all.” He let his gaze refocus on the footage playing in front of him. “But I suppose it doesn’t hurt to talk about it.”

 

Ross pressed a button on the pointer he held in his hand and the footage faded from the wall. The lights came up in the room.

 

“A wise decision,” Ross said with a smirk. He strolled towards Tony, setting the pointer in front of him with a snap, leaning down close to his ear. Tony could feel the heat of Ross’s breath on his ear and fought the urge to wriggle in his seat. “You can’t possibly expect the world to put up with this over and over again without there being some consequence.”

 

“I’ll take it under advisement, Mr. Secretary.”

 

He waited for the man to leave the room then buried his face in his hands, muttering a string of curses. Ever since Sokovia, there had been an increase in calls to regulate the Avenger’s activity and even if they didn’t speak about it with each other, the tension was present in their conversation, in dry, sardonic remarks about government overreach and irresponsibility. Tony could sense it in the distance, the chasm that was beginning to take shape.

  
He wasn’t sure the team was going to land on the same sides of a solution. The thought of it only turned his stomach more and made him want a drink.

 

He didn’t have time for that right now though. He wanted to run through his simulation once or twice more, make sure all the glitches had been worked out, make sure he’d be able to get through it all without getting too caught up in what was playing out.

 

Pepper had cared enough about the grant program to make sure he had all her notes on the logistics of what they would be doing. He made a mental note to make sure he sent the update speech to the teleprompter operator first thing in the morning as well. He really didn’t have time to worry about Cap and all of this. He wiped a splayed hand over his face with a deep sigh.

 

He had so much work to do.

 

* * *

 

“I have to go.”

 

Tony watched as Steve Rogers lumbered to his feet, shoulder hunched over the phone clutched in his hands as he hurried in the direction of the stairwell. He could see Natasha’s concern as she watched as well, then turned toward the billionaire as if he knew what was happening at all.

 

Turns out, they weren’t going to have to wait too long to figure that out.

 

A cacophony of alerts sounded as multiple other phones began to notify them that messages had been received, and Tony grabbed his device off the kitchen counter to see a new email was waiting for him.

 

From S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

_“We regret to inform you that Margaret Carter, co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D, passed away in her sleep this morning at the age of 95-years-old. Further details regarding funeral arrangements will be forwarded to you at a later date.”_

 

Tony didn't notice how Natasha looked towards him then, for he stared back in the direction to where Steve had disappeared. He gripped his phone in his hand and bowed his head for a brief moment.

 

It had been years since he'd seen Aunt Peggy.

 

He frowned, sliding the phone into his pocket and turning away from the group with a deep sigh. He rubbed at his face, trying to work through _what next_ when Natasha came up behind him.

 

Her trademark annoyance with him seemed absent as she approached. He assumed she had received the email as well, her phone was clearly in hand, and he was almost positive she would assume nothing about his relationship with the recently deceased, so the next words out of her mouth weren’t exactly anything of a surprise to him.

 

“We need to discuss these Accords further.”

 

Tony scoffed. “Yeah. Yeah, we do, but Cap’s flying off to jolly olde England and I can’t see the rest of us coming to a consensus anytime soon.”

 

Her placid expression morphed into one of disapproval. “You could be a little more respectful about it, you know.” She shook her head as if she had been foolish to expect anything more of him, then walked away in a hurry, Wilson following close behind. To find Steve, no doubt.

 

He scoffed, his hand moving to his neck.

 

“You alright?” Rhodey's voice came gently from his other side, and he turned towards his friend, forcing a smile.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Never better.” Tony's gaze shifted to where Vision and Wanda stood off by themselves, more than likely continuing their discussion. Tony made a motion with his head for Rhodey to walk with him.

 

When they were around the corner, far enough away hopefully from being overhead, Rhodey peered over at him once more.“That sounded convincing.”

 

Tony threw up his hands. “I mean, the whole thing's kind of a shitshow isn't it? Damned if we do, damned if we don't, either way, someone's gonna be mad at us...”

 

“I mean, you know where I stand on it,” Rhodey said with a shrug. “This at least gives us the opportunity to have a say. The rest of the world is done with our bullshit on this, and I’d rather go the easy way than to see the other option.”

 

“Yeah, you would think that would make the most sense, but nothing is ever that simple.”

 

They walked in silence for a little bit longer, making their way towards the main floor of the building. They reached the landing in front of the main stairs when Rhodey stopped to look back over at him, a concerned expression on his face.

 

“And Peggy?”

 

Tony's expression twitched. He looked down at the ground with a sniff and a shrug. “I haven't talked to Peggy Carter in years.”

 

“Yeah, but---”

 

Tony gave him a look that silenced him. Rhodey pressed his lips together, holding his arms up in a defeated gesture.

 

“Fine. You don't wanna talk about it, we don’t have to. You know where to find me if you do.”

 

He walked away from Tony, shaking his head and muttering under his breath and Tony felt a pang of...regret, maybe? Rhodey was always trying to help him and Tony was constantly pushing back on him for it, hating the naked sensation that snaked its way into his belly when he knew that Rhodey could really _see him_. He was one of the only people Tony _let_ see him.

 

The other, of course, being Pepper and she was gone now too.

 

 _Yeah, but_. He’d known what Rhodey was gonna say.

 

Yeah, but---

she was like an aunt to you for a while there.

 

 _Yeah_ , but,

Even after her falling out with Howard, she still tried to look out for you from far away.

 

And yeah, _but_ ,

when they died she tried to take care of you and you wouldn't let her and you never quite dealt with any of it.

 

“A goddamned shitshow,” he repeated, growling under his breath, and he spun on his heel, heading towards his private lab.

 

He didn't _need this_. That's what the whole B.A.R.F thing had been about, dealing with his past bullshit and he didn't need to be thinking about Pepper, or Aunt Peggy, or his dad, or the fact that he could just feel the tension between all of them over this, a stress that threatened to grow larger than whatever the Avengers were and swallow it whole.

 

He didn't want to deal with any of it. So he wasn't going to.

 

He stopped at a non-descript wall to enter a PIN and let the AI scan his face, and waited until the surface parted seamlessly before walking forward once more. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, you got anything for me?”

 

“The vigilante known as Spiderman's identity has been identified.”

 

He clapped his hands together. “Yes. Good. That is what I am talking about. Hit me with it.”

 

One of the headshots from the other day appeared in the air in front of him, a litany of facts about the kid listed beside it. Date of birth, place of residence, adopted by his aunt and uncle when he was orphaned a few years prior, all interesting stuff but unnecessary to pursue further, in the end. What Tony really needed was a cover, a story, something that sounded like a legitimate reason for a billionaire superhero to approach a teenager without coming off like a creep.

 

“FRI, pull the kid's academic records. Extracurriculars, grades, the whole nine yards. ”

 

“Sure thing, boss.”

 

“Okay, Mr. Parker,” Tony said with a smile. “Let's find out a little more about you.”  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark comes to call at the Parker residence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this has been so late coming but honestly, Endgame completely wrecked me and I've been trying to work through it with other stuff. This will not include IW or Endgame; if I get the urge to write anything more past this one story, it will not be Endgame compliant because I don't want it to be
> 
> also, we're kind of still in the groundwork part of this, but I wanted to lay out where May is in all of this a little more. I'm not as happy as I could be with it, but I really want to get going. This is unbeta'd so please let me know if you see anything glaring.

 

The thing May Parker thought was _the most_ unfair about parenting was: it wasn’t like there was some kind of...handbook for it. Sure, there were self-help books but there wasn't really something for, _this kids entire family has died and you're all he has left,_ and as every parent knew, no one kid was the same as another.

 

Maya had always been good at...everything. It had annoyed May to no end when they were kids. May worked hard to get decent grades, worked a full-time job during high school, made sure to get involved in school extracurriculars and do all the things in order to make sure her college applications looked good enough but Maya---

 

Maya had graduated early at almost every stage of her studies. High school, then college, onto her graduate program by the time she was 20. It wasn't that she _didn’t_ work hard; if anything, she worked too hard, and too much, always in her lab, always writing down notes, but it wasn’t _hard_ for her. Critical thinking and problem solving, all the science stuff and spending ungodly hours buried in her research, it just came naturally to Maya, like breathing.

 

And like breathing, she couldn’t go very long without it. Becoming a parent, interestingly enough, was not something Maya was naturally adept in; May wondered if anyone was, seeing how there didn’t seem to be any one way to be a parent. Every kid was different, they all had different needs, different ways of responding to being parented.

 

It had been a wake-up call when Maya had begun to realize that a newborn doesn’t run on your schedule.

 

So it had come as no surprise to May that Maya had brought Peter home from the hospital to their apartment and never _really_ left. Even after 3 or 4 years at AIM, when she was able to _afford_ her own place in Queens, she elected to only choose a place a few doors from them in the same building, which made it easy when she had late nights or trips away, which she had more often than she didn’t.

 

Peter wasn’t raised by a single parent. He was raised by three.

 

So, though May was now a party of one, she wasn’t necessarily new to the job. And she knew that some of this parenting stuff, the thing without the handbook, some of it you just came by out of pure luck. When Peter was a baby, he had a few weeks somewhere between his fourth and fifth month where he would just...wail, inconsolably, for hours without end. And it had been slowly driving all of them crazy. And it wasn’t until Ben just happened to place Peter’s carrier on top of the moving dryer that they discovered how to get him to stop.

 

Part of parenting, sometimes, was just figuring out what worked.

 

Sometimes, that meant doing the wrong thing, sometimes a lot, before you got it right.

 

May had once hoped that would get easier, the older Peter got. Whether it was never going to, or Maya and Ben's passing had compounded it she would never know. But being a parent to a teenager, by herself, was proving itself to be trying.

 

May understood some of it. Peter had begun to stay out late---not a worrying amount, but she had expected he would be 16 before _that_ started. He was always in the apartment by midnight, though, often coming in through the fire escape. She never asked too much---she didn’t want to pry, she didn’t want him to feel like he couldn’t tell her things---but it was always something over at Ned’s or another friend, and that made her feel better about it. At least that’s what he told her; he’d never given her a reason to mistrust him, and she just could picture him sneaking out to meet a girl or do something illegal. The idea had been so impossible when it had popped into her mind, she had physically shaken it away and laughed.

 

Besides, Ned seemed like he was over just as often, though not nearly as late. And it was good for Peter to have such a good friend.

 

It was the middle of the week, a Wednesday; she was on the schedule for the coming weekend and so this was one of her days off and as such, had spent the day cleaning the apartment, doing laundry and running errands, and she had just settled in towards the end of the day to relax for an hour or so before Peter arrived home. Ellen was on, and so she made herself a pot of coffee and warmed up a snack, curling up under a throw on the couch to zone out and enjoy her solitude. She had just gotten comfortable when a knock sounded from the door.

 

Her brow furrowed. The mail had come for the day and she wasn’t expecting company. She picked up her phone, checking to see if a neighbor or a friend had texted, but there was nothing. When a second knock came, louder, more insistent, she grumbled a little under her breath but rose to her feet. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

 

She reached the door and arched up on the balls of her feet, attempting to see the unknown caller through the door. It was a man, turned away from the door and facing the hallway. A few people passed by him with wide, surprised looks and he just nodded brusquely, before turning back around to face the door, clearly a little annoyed. It was a face she had seen hundreds of times on television and on the front of magazine covers, but seeing it in person, through the fish-eyed lens of her spyhole in the door, Tony Stark seemed much more intimidating than ever before.

 

May had to stifle a squeak and jumped back. _Shit_. She shouldn’t have said anything when she had gotten up. She froze in place for a moment, a hundred thoughts racing through her mind, though only one face came to mind, front and center in her thoughts.

 

Maya.

 

“Is this the Parker residence?” Stark’s voice was muffled by the door. “Look, I don’t want to impose, I just wanted to see if I could have a moment regarding a, um...a Peter, Parker?”

 

May’s skin flushed hot and she stepped a few paces away from the door as if it were a predator about to pounce. She couldn’t... _this couldn’t be happening_. Why was he here?   


Well. She knew why he could be here, but Tony Stark didn’t sound mad, or indignant, or any of the things one might expect someone would sound if they were confronting the possibility of a long lost child. And of course, May could tell him no, that it wasn’t the Parker residence. She could tell him she was busy, or to come back later, when she had contacted a lawyer and gotten prepared to fight Tony Stark for custody of a child he didn’t know, and then her mind started to think of custody agreements, and the media circus that would surely follow and----

 

She wrapped her hands together and squeezed. _Stop it,_ she snapped at herself. _You don’t even know why he’s here_.

 

_Why else would he be here?_

 

Well. She couldn’t just very well wait until he went _away_. Or, she could, but he would surely be in worse spirits. She opened the door just a bit, keeping the chain lock fixed so that he couldn’t just push his way in. “Um…” Her voice trembled. “Peter isn’t here right now? Can I ask...to what this is regarding?”

 

“Sure, of course. I was wondering if I could come in though? I can explain more but it’s kinda weird just,” He gestured aimlessly. “Lurking outside in the hallway.”

 

Generally, May’s rule of thumb was to not let strange men she didn’t know into her house. But this wasn’t necessarily a strange man, this was Tony Stark, billionaire superhero who had more than a public profile. He was also a man who had a close tie to the only family she had left and she couldn’t know, at this moment, if that played a part in why he was here or not.

 

Tony’s expression became more pointed, widening his eyes as if to emphasize his request. May looked him up and down one more time. She let out a deep sigh, shutting the door for a moment and unlatching the chain before slowly sliding back, opening the front door further.

 

“Please, Mr. Stark, do come in.”

 

“Thanks.” He looked around as he walked in, adjusting his suit jacket in the space between her open kitchen and the living room. “This is nice, this is cozy, you have a beautiful home, Mrs. Parker.”

 

“May is fine.”

 

“May then.” He smiled, rubbing his hands together. “I hope I’m not intruding. I guess you probably want me to get right to the point, so here goes.  I’m not sure if you keep up with the news much, but Stark Industries has been doling out our annual September Foundation grants. We have a small division that goes towards promising high schoolers, and your son Peter popped up in our records when we had another student that had to decline. Now...”

 

May was about to open her mouth and correct him, to tell him that Peter wasn’t her son, he was her nephew and what was this about a grant? Truth be told, the entire situation of having a billionaire show up at her front door had overwhelmed her just a tad, and she just stared at him, open-mouthed as he continued to talk as if it was the most normal thing in the world to show up at someone’s home unannounced and award their kid an internship.

 

“...and yes, while it’s unorthodox to award the grant to a high school sophomore, we were very impressed with Peter’s test scores and credentials and decided that he would be the best fit for this particular program.” He smiled brightly. “Do you have any questions?”

 

Did she ever.

 

“Oh?” May asked, tone high and reedy. She pulled out a date loaf from the breadbox and grabbed two coffee mugs from the cupboard before flipping on the coffee pot to heat what was left of that morning's brew. “Did one of his teachers----?”

 

“No, no,” Tony waved her off, shaking his head. “He applied a couple of months ago. We were very impressed with his, erm, test scores and extracurriculars, along with the essay he submitted. Peter appears, at least on paper, to be very bright Mrs. Parker. Lots of potential.”  


Her face flushed. “I’m aware.” She peered up at him, pouring two cups of coffee after the machine beeped, divvying up two slices of bread on plates and pushing one towards the billionaire standing at her counter. For a moment, she felt like pinching herself to make sure this was real, just some kind of coincidence. She gestured towards the couches in her living room. “Mr. Stark, would you like to sit?”

 

“I would be delighted.”

 

He grabbed his own plate and mug, taking a sip and complimenting her on it. It surprised her because it was hours old and only lukewarm, and yet he was the picture of a polite guest and didn’t seem to have any other motive aside from what he was already speaking about. Surely if this was about more than just the internship, he would have led with that, or at least asked about more than an internship and so she decided to go with what he was saying and see where it ended up.

 

“So...this...internship, what exactly would it entail?”

 

Tony shifted where he sat, crossing his legs, giving her a considering glance. “Well, we actually usually don’t admit high school students unless they’re seniors, but as I had said before, your son---”

 

This time she had herself together enough to interrupt. “Nephew.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“Peter. He’s my nephew. My husband and I took him in when my sister died a few years ago.”

 

Tony took a sip of his coffee, nodding. “Oh, yeah, I think I saw something about that in his...information, I just assumed---” He waved his hand. “Nevermind. Is your husband around, by any chance? We should probably include him in this as well..”

 

May waited for him to continue. For him to spring it on her, now that they were relaxed and sitting down drinking from her coffee mugs, that he was going to take Peter away from her but that never came.

 

“Well...Mr. Stark, not to be rude, but are all your background checks for Stark employees this...intensive? Or, I suppose...not, in this case?”

 

His brows raised at once and he grinned behind his cup. “Well, one, this isn’t an official coded position---it doesn’t require all the screenings we would require of a full-time employee. Secondly, this is a merit-based scholarship, and as such, we try and look only at a high level, basic demographic information when we’re selecting our applicants, to avoid any implicit or unconscious biases.” He took another sip. “So I know how old Peter is, his ethnicity, where he lives, where he goes to school, but not much else outside of that.”

 

May let out a sigh she didn’t even realize she was holding. _He doesn’t know about Maya_. Which then, of course, presented her with a whole other set of things to worry about but that could wait for later.

 

“Mr. Stark,” She began slowly. “My husband…passed away, earlier this year. He and Peter were out getting some stuff for dinner and…” She trailed off, her throat closing up. “I’m sorry, it’s still a little fresh to talk about.”

 

And it was the strangest thing. Tony Stark had been exactly the person May Parker had always expected him to be, based on the many times she’d seen him speak in public or on television, even based on the scant amount of information she was able to get out of her sister after she told her he was Peter’s father. Very smooth, very charismatic, very full of himself. Charming, but above it all, and now…

 

Tony softened.

 

“Oh,” He set his mug down on the table, brow furrowing. “Wow. Damn, I’m... I’m really sorry.” He frowned, shaking his head. “Yeah, I didn’t look that far into it, like I said, we don’t pry too deep into the personal lives of potential associates.”

 

That seemed alarming. And frankly, not at all likely, but she supposed now may not be the time to get into the details. She glanced at a clock behind him and noticed that Peter would probably be getting home at any time and she would prefer that Tony be gone or on his way out when that happened.

 

She cleared her throat. “So, going back a little bit---what exactly is this grant or internship about? I mean, does he get school credit for it, does he have to go somewhere…?”

 

Tony seemed recharged at the question and relieved to have her move them forward from the awkwardness. “Ah, yeah sorry. So, basically, he’d be a lab assistant, a couple of times a week or month, depending on what works with his schedule. There will probably be some other standard internship stuff, meetings and training, and whatnot but I gotta tell you,” He smirked, a self-important grin on his face. “All that looks really great on college applications.”

 

“I’m sure it does,” May commented, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “Look, Mr. Stark, it’s been a really rough couple of months, what with my husband and everything. I just don’t know if now is the right time, it may be more appropriate when Peter is actually----”

 

Too late. She paused as the handle on the front door began to wiggle, the sound of keys muffled coming from the other side of the door. Tony seemed to perk up, May completely forgotten and she pushed herself up taller, trying to come up with something to tell him but falling short.

 

Peter walked in without looking up. He dumped his backpack by the door and tossed the keys on the counter, fiddling with the headphones in his ears. “Hey Aunt May, there’s this crazy car outside…”

 

The words died on his lips once he looked up, mouth dropping further open when he saw Tony sitting on the couch. His eyes darted between the billionaire and his Aunt, and May was certain there was a moment there where she could see something like panic or fear there, and she couldn’t help but wonder….

 

Did Peter know? Had Maya told him and May had just...not known?

 

She forced a smile, leaning against the back of the sofa. “Hey honey, how are you doing, how was school? As you can see, we have a guest…”

 

“Hey, Peter. I’m Tony.”

 

Peter let out a half-hysterical laugh. “I...yeah. Yeah, I know. What are you, what are you, what are you doing here?”

 

“I’m here about the September Foundation. The grant. You remember you applied for it, back in the spring?”

 

May kept her eyes fixed on Peter, but it was clear from his expression he wasn’t sure what Tony was talking about. She looked at Tony, who offered an assuring grin and turned her attention back to her nephew. She shook her head to clear it. There were more important things to consider, and she squinted up at Peter. “Why didn’t you tell me you had applied for this grant?”

 

“Well, I mean…” Peter seemed to be searching but eventually, he just gave her a bashful grin and ducked his head. “I mean, I know how you love surprises…”

 

“Do you mind, May,” Tony grinned at her, lightly touching her arm. “Can I grab him, for just a second. Just to go over the details of the...internship? We’ll be out in a jiffy, I promise…”

 

She wanted to object, but Tony was already up and off the couch and Peter was leading him back to his room, so she waved them off. “I’ll clean up in here. Peter, try and make it quick, please? And I want to hear all about this over dinner.”

 

“Yes, Aunt May!” And she heard the door click shut behind them.

 

She gathered the plates, half-eaten slices of walnut date loaf getting tossed in the trash before she deposited them in the sink and turned on the faucet. She stared at the stream of water as it grew warmer and the steam began to form and tried not to think about what may be going on in the next room.

 

Tony had said nothing about anything other than the internship and he had certainly not seemed upset. He hadn’t known about Ben; he didn’t seem to know about Maya. Somewhere in her mind, she wondered, paranoid, that this was some kind of ploy to trick her into letting Peter go where she would never see him again, that Tony had figured it out and was stealing him away, but for reality’s sake, this was Tony Stark. If he wanted to take Peter, as his biological father and one of the richest men in the world, he could make that happen with little to no recourse or trouble.

 

She frowned at that, glancing back in the direction of Peter’s room. What kind of internship was it that didn’t dig that deep anyway? Okay, fine, she got the whole merit-based, unbiased approach part of it---but if this was internship worth any of its salt, wouldn’t these kids have access to stuff that could be sensitive? Or even dangerous.

 

She didn’t like it. This was _weird_ , and she didn’t believe in coincidences. She would need to talk to Peter, clearly. They could discuss it, of course; surely an internship at a company like Stark Industries would have information tied to it, a packet of some kind, there had to be a release that a parent or guardian had to sign since Peter was underage. As much as she tried to rationalize this, there arose so many more questions.

 

The door to his room opened sooner than she expected, and she was relieved to see Peter’s face bright and open, and not covered in angry tears spawned by a deeply personal revelation. She forced a smile on her face, looking at a very smug looking Tony Stark behind her nephew before turning his attention back towards Peter.

 

“Get everything worked out?”

 

Peter nodded eagerly. “Yeah! Yeah, I just, I had totally forgotten about this thing, because you know, the deadline for the award passed, but Mr. Stark, he told me about how a spot had opened up unexpectedly and offered it to me and I totally told him I’d do it….”

 

May’s face must have fallen because Peter’s brows shot up and he held both his hands out. “Or. Maybe not? Do you not want me to take it? I know it’s really short notice, and I definitely know, I should totally talk to you first about it, so I guess,” He turned around quickly. “Mr. Stark, it has to be okay with my Aunt…”

 

“It’s _fine_ with me Peter, if you really want to do it,” She interrupted, though even she knew that she wasn’t exactly selling that. “I just know that there’s a lot we need to work out. It’s gonna be a commitment, and just, you know between school and your after school stuff, and you’ve been going out so much with your friends...you know that’s gonna have to get cut back right?”

 

There was something about the look Tony shot Peter when she’d said that last part that had caught her attention, but she wouldn’t think about it until much, much later.

 

“Yeah, I know, but…” Peter sighed, impatient and exasperated. “I just think this would be really good for me. Like, college applications, all of it.”

 

May couldn’t deny that. “Peter, I’m fine with it. It is absolutely a good opportunity. I just wish I would have had more of a heads up is all.”

 

“Great!” Tony piped in. He reached a hand into his suit jacket, pulling a thick envelope from an inside pocket. “There are some forms here we need to have signed, waivers and whatnot. You can read through them if you’d like, but I can assure you, Peter will not be involved in anything dangerous. Now, some of this is going to seem really rushed….”

 

She took the envelope from him, removing the papers and unfolding the documentation to inspect it. The first, primary document was prefilled with the exact demographic information Tony had mentioned before, but nothing else, other than a black and white photo from Peter’s high school. She shuffled through them, scanning them until she got to the last one. Her eyes narrowed in on the date at the top and her head snapped up with a glare at Tony, who grimaced. He held his hands up.

 

“Look, I know this is super short notice. We’re having a four day, long weekend orientation up at the Avengers facility in upstate New York, but it starts tomorrow. I promise you the utmost security, he’ll be in no danger, my driver Happy Hogan will pick him up tomorrow morning and we’ll drop him back off Sunday. It’ll be him and like, 10 or 15 others, just to get him acclimated to the program…”

 

“Mr. Stark, this seems like an awful lot, awfully fast…”

 

“You’re working this weekend!” Peter piped in. “You won’t even be here, at least this will be a productive use of my time!”

 

If there wasn’t so much going on, she would call him out on his manipulative bullshit for what it was. Because that’s exactly what it was---Peter’s doe eyes were wide and wet, and she could see the muscles of his face twitching to keep a straight face as he gazed up at her.

 

He really, really wanted this.

 

And that was the real crux on all of this. Peter was so excited. The boy should never play poker normally, he was practically vibrating with excitement right now. He deserved this---Tony was at least right about that, with his minimal research, that Peter was a great, brilliant kid. She couldn’t remember Peter smiling like this in months.

 

She pointed at him. “You call or text me every night. I do have shifts this weekend, so I may not text right back and I’m sure that Compound is all very safe and all but please, just humor me, okay?”

 

Peter was already nodding furiously. “Yeah, of course, absolutely Aunt May.” He looked back up at Tony beaming. “I gotta pack!”

 

Peter darted off to his room, a fading “Thanks Mr. Stark!” coming as he closed his door behind.

 

It left May and Tony in silence. The man was watching her, wary, clearly trying to gauge where she was at. May just sighed and grabbed a rag from the sink, wiping down the counter.

 

“I am going to be paying close attention to this,” She told him. “I’m gonna sign your paper, and i”m gonna let him go, but I swear to god, if he comes back with a hair on his head out of place, so help me…”

 

“Well, boys will be boys, but I promise, I will do my utmost best to keep him in check,” Tony said with a grin. “Look, Mrs. Parker. I promise. I won’t be able to be there, but Happy Hogan is honestly way more on top of this stuff than I am and he will be.”

 

And May believed that. She’d seen enough about Mr. Stark’s illustrious help, and he seemed to take things much more seriously than the reckless billionaire.

 

“Anyway,” Tony cleared his throat. “I’ll make sure Happy knows the kid needs to call when you want. Facetime, even. Scouts honor.”

 

She watched him quietly. Tony shifted under her scrutiny, licking at his lips and look around the room with a sigh. “This is a wonderful opportunity for him. I know that. And I appreciate you giving it to him. But I’m sure you can understand my apprehension.”

 

Tony’s expression relaxed. “Mrs. Parker, I cannot begin to understand what you and Peter have been through this past year. But I can promise, I will do everything in my power to make sure he stays safe. I wouldn’t be giving Peter this chance if I thought he wouldn’t excel at it.” He paused for a moment, looking away. “We’re really not in the business of recruiting so young.”

 

She felt a little swell of pride at that. Peter was so smart, one of the brightest in his class, and he had the potential to do great things. May wasn’t in denial about their financial situation, and so something like this could really open doors for him that would otherwise remain closed. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and nodded.

 

“I appreciate it. I know he’ll make the most of it. He won’t let you down. I don’t think the kid knows how.”

 

Tony smiled. “Yeah, I’m kinda getting that, even from just a couple of minutes with him.” He toyed with the button on his suit jacket, clearing his throat. “I’ll get out of your hair. I have some stuff I have to take care of in the city, dealing with some of the fallout of the last couple of days. Happy will be here bright and early tomorrow to grab him, though, and if you could, please make sure those waivers are signed?”  


May nodded. “Of course, I will make sure he’s ready to go.” She walked him to the door. “Good luck with...everything.”

 

He grinned. “Thanks, Mrs. Parker. You guys have a good night now.”

 

She watched him walk down the hall. He seemed to have already moved on to whatever was next on his to-do list, grabbing at his phone and beginning to thumb through one thing or another. There was still something about this, something that made May incredibly uneasy. She wasn’t sure if it was the elephant in the room or the fact that Tony Stark was who he was and he seemed...incredibly too devil-may-care about this whole thing.

 

She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this feels choppy, but like i have said earlier, i don't really want to rewrite homecoming though I have to go through it to get where I want to go. the chaps from here on out will be mostly from Tony or Peter's POV. Again, this will not be IW or Endgame compliant.
> 
> enjoy everyone!

“Hey! I’m walking here!”

 

A horn blared as a car barrelled through an intersection, and Peter turned just in time to see a man hold his arm out at the sidewalk to keep pedestrians from walking into the street. His entire body tensed up, prepared to swing down if he was needed, but he realized quickly he had been distracted and hadn’t noticed, and he scolded himself silently for not being more aware.

 

He swung a few streets over, settling on a light overlooking an intersection of 5 streets, all converging at one point in the middle before splitting off into three. A veritable fucking mess, really, an accident waiting to happen. He could see and hear in all directions for a mile or two and he figured this was as good a place as any.

 

He waited. There were a few close calls but eventually, as the rush died down a bit and the foot traffic thinned out, Peter decided to grab at his phone and take a look at a few of the messages.

 

When he saw that he had one, only from Ned, his heart kind of sunk. He opened up the chain he had with Happy Hogan, dismayed not to see a single reply to any of the texts he’d sent over the past few days.

 

It had been complete radio silence, since Mr. Stark and Happy had dropped him off at the apartment he shared with May a couple of months ago. He occasionally got a message or two back from Happy, but they were all terse and short, and Peter was clearly annoying him. The word _babysitter_ had been bandied about in the background of a voicemail once and that had hurt a little. Peter was clearly more than capable of handling himself if their escapade in Germany had anything to say about it.

 

He couldn’t help but smile a little when he thought about Germany. He’d flown on Tony Stark’s _private jet_ , had stayed in what was, by far, the nicest hotel room he’d ever seen, and he’d fought _Captain America_.

 

Mr. Stark had even been complimentary. Peter had been surprised when he joined them on the trip home. Mr. Stark had looked like he’d seen better days, and Mr. Hogan had told him that, under no circumstances was he to even _bring up_ Steve Rogers, and Peter was pretty sure something terrible had happened in the day and a half after the airport.

 

Either way, Mr. Stark had been in decent enough spirits. He’d kept to himself on the flight over the Atlantic but once Happy had brought the car around on the tarmac, the banter had begun. He’d allowed Peter to keep recording everything, even seemed to revel in the attention, and then he’d done the most unbelievable thing of all.

 

He’d let Peter keep the suit.

 

There were a lot of times Peter had just laid in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about it. His suit, Mr. Stark had made it _for him_. Sure, Peter was still responsible for his web fluid, but honestly, he wasn’t sure he trusted anyone else to manage it completely. He liked that part of this still felt like a science project, that he got to tinker and figure stuff out and know that part of this was all his own.

 

The suit was pretty amazing though.

 

The phone buzzed and Peter looked down to see multiple message alerts arriving from his aunt.

 

**May (6:45:13)** : I ordered China King, I got your favorite :)

 

**May (6:45:36)** : You’re gonna be home, right?

 

**May (6:52:28)** : I can put it in the fridge for later, if not

 

He shook his head with a grin.

 

**Peter (6:54:47)** : Gimme 45 minutes. I’ll leave Ned’s now.

 

* * *

 

“So.”

 

Peter looked up at the sound of his Aunt’s voice. She was staring at the plate of food in front of her, stabbing at a piece of General Tso’s before looking up at Peter with a half smile. “How is the Stark thing going?”

 

Peter’s face warmed. What could he tell her? It was going great, it was really going great, except Mr. Stark, um, never ever talked to him?

 

Mr. Stark _never_ talked to him. He was always routed to Happy or to voicemail (which he assumed was also just Happy) and that what she thought were visits to the Stark Tower were, in fact, him going out, traipsing around in a weaponized fitted suit to stop bad guys and help old ladies cross the street.

 

She would mind the former much more than the latter.

 

He shrugged. “It’s good. I actually don’t see Mr. Stark all that much, it’s more the other interns and just doing boring intern stuff.”

 

“Oh?” May asked with a smile, and she seemed to relax. He could understand that. He got the impression that she had assumed his day to day activities would involve something dangerous, and while she would have been kind of right about that, it wouldn’t have been in the right context.

 

“So, coffee and meetings?"

 

Peter shoveled a forkful of lo mein into his mouth and nodded with a noise. “Mmhmm. Sometimes we get to help in the lab. I’m learning a lot.”

 

Her smile widened. “That’s good! That’s so good.” She picked at her food, moving it around her plate. “I had worried for a second, when he first showed up, that maybe this was because of Maya but….”

 

She trailed off for a second. Peter waited, fork in midair and watched her curiously. May didn’t really get nervous around; she’d been around him his entire life, she knew him better than anyone else, and so when she was worried to say or do something with him, it always made him pause.

 

“Have you, um,” May started, then stopped and sat up straighter, rolling her shoulders. Peter’s expression sharpened; she seemed nervous and twitchy like she wasn’t quite sure what she was trying to say but was still trying to ask it all the same. She looked up and he knew his concern must have been transparent because she set her fork down with a sigh.

 

“Look,” She began again, folding her hands in a tent over her plate. “Did you tell Tony about your mom?”

 

Peter’s flush came back, stronger and warmer and he took a deep breath, a painful sensation spreading throughout his chest. “I---” He gasped softly, looking up at her. “No. I didn’t think that would help anything.” He paused. “Don’t you think they would’ve seen that when they looked at me for the internship?”

 

May was quiet for a few moments. “Stark never mentioned it. I think he would have if he had known.” She tilted her head, expression tender, if not a little concerned. “I didn’t want to tell him, Peter, because you seemed really excited about this and I didn’t want to ruin it for you. I didn’t feel like it was my place.” She reached for his hand. “Are you okay though?”

 

Because Peter knew, from a very high level, government-run down sort of way, he understood what had happened to his mother. He understood that Tony had at least been on the grounds when it had happened---Peter had looked it up, whatever scant amount of information he could find about his mom’s boss and the company she worked for. He had seen that Tony Stark and Pepper Potts and the Iron Patriot had been in Miami and that they’d saved the President. But there had been a lot the government hadn’t allowed to be released and Peter suspected it may not be as simple as what a cursory Google search had turned up.

 

“I don’t want it to be weird,” He said softly. He shifted in his seat, letting his hands drop into his lap. His mother had really only been gone a couple of years, so sometimes, it felt fresher than others. “I kind of feel like...like I earned this myself, ya know? I feel like if I tell him, then he might...I don’t know, do extra stuff because he feels bad and I don’t want that.”

 

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

 

She began to pick back at her food and Peter watched her for a quiet moment before turning back to his own.

 

He’d always known, long before getting into this, that Tony Stark had been around for what happened to his mom. They weren’t privy to any of the details, but Peter had known it’d been tied to her boss and his company and he’d known that the Killian guy had done some pretty terrible stuff. He had this awful sneaking suspicion his mother may have helped, but he hadn’t wanted to dig and so he hadn’t. He wanted to remember his mom the way he always had---a dry quip here or there, a bright wide smile and a gentle kiss on the top of his head.

 

It didn’t matter to him, how Mr. Stark had known her. Mr. Stark was Iron Man; he was a superhero, so he had always assumed they had just crossed paths because of the _wrong place, wrong time,_ and what other reason would there be for Tony to care?

 

Aside from the fact that…. ** _if_** his mom had been doing something she shouldn’t have been….

 

Would it affect the way Mr. Stark treated him?

 

He was ashamed to let the thought invade his brain. Ashamed to be worried that his mom’s work may ruin things for him, but it could easily slide the other way, and he certainly didn’t want Mr. Stark to be treating him with pity, either; giving him extra opportunities because he felt like he owed it to him.

 

No. No, he wasn’t going to ever mention who his mother was to Mr. Stark, at least not until Peter had established himself as a little more essential to all the superhero-ing.

 

“Are you okay?” May asked again, brow creased in concern. “I didn’t mean to bring her up. I know it’s still hard, but I just----”

 

“No.” Peter forced a soft smile. “No, Aunt May, I..I’m okay talking about her, I just miss her,” His smile widened. “I was just thinking. I really don’t want whatever happened to affect the internship. I think it’s just best if I keep it to myself as long as I can, you know?”

 

She smiled at him tightly. “I miss her too, honey.” She lifted a hand, touching his face softly. “She’d be so proud of you.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“Absolutely.” She grabbed his chin gently, shaking his head a little for emphasis. “Enough of that though. How about you catch me up on school?”

 

He shrugged. “School’s fine. Nothing crazy.” He picked at his food, chewing on a mouthful of noodles as he thought it over. “Oh! I have that trip, with the decathlon team in a couple of weeks to DC.”

 

She nodded, “I remember you mentioning it.”

 

“I need you to sign a couple of forms…”

 

“I can do that tonight.” She grinned at him. “Look at you. Upstate to the Avengers compound, going to DC. You’re a busy guy, Peter Parker.”

 

He bit back a laugh, offering only a tiny, sheepish grin.

 

She really had _no_ idea.

 

* * *

 

**2 Weeks Later**

 

Peter couldn’t believe how south everything had gone in the past two weeks.

 

Currently, he was stuck in Mr. Stark’s custom black Audi, alone in the backseat, wallowing in silence. Peter shifted in place, rubbing clammy hands against the pink Hello Kitty patterned PJ pants Mr. Hogan had grabbed for him. He chanced a glance up to where the partition usually separated the front and back seat. Happy Hogan was driving, eyes focused on the freeway in front of him.

 

Peter turned his gaze out the window, eyes unfocused on the billboards and buildings whizzing by.

 

**_Queens,_** his own voice echoed in his mind and he couldn’t help a small smile, just for a moment when he thought of the montage he’d made on the trip to Germany, and on the way back. The grin slipped away shortly after, his mind realigning with reality.

 

In the days following his conversation about the internship with May, everything felt like it had escalated quickly. He’d broken up a robbery and discovered those weapons, and Ned finding out had just made everything a 100 times more complicated than it had to be.

 

Though he had been useful, in DC. Peter was more on the physics and engineering side of things, while Ned excelled at programming. He tried not to focus on how his stomach knotted now at the thought.

 

Mr. Stark had sounded pissed on the Ferry, in that cold, flat way that adults sounded when they were _really_ mad. Peter almost would have preferred him screaming at him.

 

“You hacked a million dollar suit to do the _one thing_ I told you not to do.”

 

But, Peter thought furiously, it wouldn’t have even gone down like this had Mr. Stark just listened to him. Had _anybody_ listened to him! Or told him anything, not kept him in the dark about everything that was going on. It wasn’t fair of Mr. Stark to have done any of it like this. Why couldn’t he have told Peter about the police? Did he not think Peter was trustworthy? Did he really think Peter was going to sit on the sidelines, especially after the talk they’d had in his room the day Tony showed up at their apartment?

 

He couldn’t just...bring Peter along to fight Captain America and then dump him back in the city as if nothing had ever happened. He couldn’t expect for Peter to be fine being ignored for all those weeks when he’d given Peter this amazing piece of technology.

 

Peter had watched sulkily from the tower on Governors Island as Tony ushered the Ferry back to the harbor, ensuring it was safe and that everyone aboard was present and accounted for. Peter had been able to see the glint of the sun off the armor as the suit turned, looked up and then accelerated towards where he was sitting.

 

_Great_

 

_“If you actually cared you’d be here!”_

 

God, Peter had sounded like such a _child_. He’d been so impulsive and immature and he just hadn’t...he hadn’t thought _any_ of it through, and he’d thought he could do this and he’d….

 

He’d almost killed a whole bunch of people.

 

Peter couldn’t get the look on Mr. Stark’s face out of his brain. His mouth set in a line, eyes hard and glaring and he’d seemed so disappointed like he’d expected so much better from Peter…

 

_“I wanted you to be better.”_

 

Peter pressed his hands to his face, leaning against the tinted window of the car until he felt Happy slow down as they took the exit towards his neighborhood.

 

“Alright, kid,” Happy interrupted his misery. “This is your stop.”

 

Peter held in a deep sigh. He sat up in the chair, hand reaching for the door handle. “Thanks, Happy, I appreciate it….”

 

“Hey, kid.”

 

Happy turned then, arm resting on the seat in between them. Peter didn’t take his hand from the lever but looked at the driver tiredly, not really in the mood for another lecture.

 

What he found, however, was almost worse than that.

 

Peter saw pity.

 

Happy felt _bad_ for him.

 

“What you did today, was kind of dumb. And reckless,” Happy said softly. “But I get it. And Tony does too.” He paused, looking away for a moment before back up at Peter. “He’ll come around.”

 

Peter made a sort of snorting, airy noise, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I won’t hold my breath.” He pushed the door open, hurrying to climb out of the car. “Thanks, though, Happy, for everything. I really appreciate you helping me out like you did. I won’t forget it.”

 

“Kid----”

 

But Peter didn’t stop to hear what he had to say. He shut the door behind him, skipping a little towards the door of the apartment building, pressing his eyes closed.

 

Mr. Stark had taken his suit. He’d revoked...whatever Tony Stark had been doing with him, he’d canceled the fake internship, Peter was _done_. He’d messed it up. He’d lost it. It wasn’t just the suit either---he couldn’t ignore the empty feeling that had begun to grow in his chest, a pit that was growing wider as he became more aware that if he was going to try and keep doing this, he was going to have to do it alone, in that “onesie”, as Mr. Stark had so critically designated.

 

It was also that this was such a great opportunity and _he’d blown it_. May never said anything, but he knew that money was tight now that Ben wasn’t around. There was some money for school, he knew there’d been some kind of insurance after his mom and Ben had passed, but it still wasn’t a lot and this had been his opportunity to contribute, to kind of take that pressure off of her. Instead, he’d made Mr. Stark so angry, he wouldn’t be surprised to see that hurt him even more down the line.

 

Peter was probably overthinking it, but he couldn’t help it when he thought of everything he and May had been through the past few years. He knew she hadn’t been crazy about him working with Mr. Stark. But when they talked a few weeks ago, she finally seemed to have come around. And for the first time, Peter really could see himself getting to go to any school he wanted, could see himself growing up and taking care of her like she’d taken care of him for so long.

 

He came to a stop outside their apartment, collecting himself, wiping at the angry and frustrated tears that were gathering. He had to tell her, and he didn’t want to be a mess when he did it.

 

She was going to be so disappointed.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a [tumblr @ cattlaydee](http://cattlaydee.tumblr.com); tho it's not exclusively marvel/iron man, i love yelling about these boys


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm kind of playing fast and loose with the dates here---obviously, in canon, Peter's bday is in 2001 but that doesn't work with the 2000 timeline *but* i want him to still be 15 when Homecoming happens so basically i'm moving everything up a year. shouldn't affect anything really, but I wanted to say something to avoid confusion. 
> 
> sorry this is later than I wanted it to be. Jury duty all last week (i got selected and everything, totally threw my schedule outta whack) but hopefully it'll be more steady from here on out.

Peter had gone to bed pretty early, considering how late he usually stayed up.

 

May watched him slink away to his room in silence from her spot on the couch. It was close to 9, which was ridiculously early by his standard schedule. But he’d had a long, hard day and it was probably good for him to get some rest. DC had only happened the week prior and she was still shaken up about that. She couldn’t help but wonder if that had had something to do with whatever had happened with the internship. 

 

She closed a book she was reading after she saw his room darken from under the door. May had assumed the worst when she’d found him out in the hall near tears, wearing those ridiculous clothes. Between what had happened at the Decathlon tournament, the Ferry emergency and him showing up like that, her nerves were fried. She regretted how frantic she had been, but the whole time she had been watching the news, unable to get a hold of him, she had only imagined the worst.

 

And then he’d turned up, looking terrible. She knew when Peter was about to lose it, the telltale signs of a meltdown hadn’t changed since he was a little boy, and the red-rimmed eyes had told her all she needed to know. 

 

She stood next to him as he hiccuped and caught his breath and talked about how he’d tried his best and done everything he could, but that it had never been enough for _him_ \---Tony Stark. She’d bitten her tongue and weaved her hands into Peter's hair as he’d tearfully told her that his internship was terminated and that he was _sorry that he had disappointed her_ , and she’d immediately crouched down to his level and grabbed his face in her hands.

 

“Peter, you have never disappointed me. I worry about you, and sometimes I wish you made better choices but I have never been disappointed in you. And Tony Stark is the last person who is going to change that, do you understand me?”

 

Peter had only cried then and she had gathered him in her arms and sat with him until he felt better. He hadn’t said much the rest of the night, but she’d gotten him in the shower and cooked him a decent meal. He'd curled up close to her on the couch as they watch some sitcom but had risen when the news had begun with the coverage of the ferry disaster. His sullen attitude quickly returned, just as dark as it had been when he'd come home and she could have sworn he winced when they'd talked about that Spiderperson vigilante; when she asked if he was alright, he mumbled a yes at her and said he was going to bed.

 

May gathered the throw blanket around her tighter. It would be too easy to blame Tony Stark for all of this. Part of this was her fault for letting him get mixed up in all of this in the first place. She should have never let Tony into their apartment. She should have never let him talk her into taking Peter on that retreat, should have never even let him get within 20 feet of her nephew because she knew all too well what happened when Tony Stark got close to the people she loved.

 

Shame immediately followed that thought. As much as she disliked the man, he wasn't responsible for what had happened to her sister. The FBI had told her everything about Killian's company and what her she’d been involved in, none of which was Tony’s fault. That he had been there when she died was probably not a coincidence but she knew enough about Maya to know that her involvement in the what Killian was doing was her own choice. 

 

No one could make Maya do something she didn’t want to do. Not even Peter.

 

May’s gaze fell back on the door. There had been many times over the past 9 months that she missed Ben more than she could stand it, but this wasn’t one of those moments. In fact, he felt closer than ever.

 

Ben had never been completely comfortable with keeping the truth from Peter. It hadn’t been a lie, of course. Tony Stark was a man on a screen, he had scarcely even seemed real to them. When Maya had died, it seemed easier to avoid the drama of it all---not only how would they even reach him, but what if Maya had been wrong? It seemed like a gamble, something they would never put Peter through unless they were certain.

  
And while she still couldn’t be now, Tony wasn’t far away. He wasn’t distant or some abstract figure, he’d spent time with Peter, enough that it had driven the boy to tears when they’d fallen out.

 

She could see her husband so clearly in her mind, knew exactly what he would say and what it would sound like. 

 

_What will Peter do,_ Ben would ask, looking at her with soft, imploring eyes, _if he finds out some other way and he finds out you knew?_

 

It was a big if, a sizable gamble, but secrets had a way of coming back to bite you. Especially when they were kept for selfish reasons. 

 

They had entertained it, briefly, just after Maya’s body had been returned to them. It would have been a perfect time, considering what had happened. Their lawyers could have reached out to Stark Industries, and surely an orphaned kid would get their attention.

 

“What if he takes him away from us?” May had whispered as they laid in the dark. “Ben, I just...I don’t know if I could handle that, not right now, not after Maya….”

 

With all the variables, all the unknowns, and the distance, it had been an easier decision to make. 

 

But, she supposed, so was this. Tony had shown up here for a reason, whether he and Peter knew it or not yet. She had told herself it was for the best to keep it quiet, but she knew now the caution had been misplaced. There was more between them than just an internship, and if she let it end here, with tears and angry words between them, it would hang over her for the rest of her life.

 

She knew what she had to do.

 

* * *

 

“I appreciate you taking care of this for me.”

 

Pepper’s voice filled the car as Tony made his way to the Stark Industries office in Midtown. He smiled at the warmth in her tone.

 

“Well, forms gotta get signed if we want everything finalized for the big move Friday night.” He glanced at the dash fondly, navigating his way through traffic. “Seriously, Pep, it’s no big deal. I need to grab a few things as well. I’ll slide them under your office door so they’ll be there for you when you get in.”

 

Pepper was flying in from California later that afternoon having spent the last couple of days finalizing things with the Board in Malibu. They were on better terms now, more than civil and Tony had accepted that if she were to ever give them another chance, it would have to be outside of him constantly pressing her on it. 

 

He’d missed her. And if this is all they ever were---friends & business associates---well then, that would be enough. 

 

“Don’t work too hard now. I’ll see you on Friday afternoon for the closing.”

 

“Yep. Have a good rest of your flight.”

 

He heard her hang up and focused back on his drive.

 

And now it was Wednesday. 

 

Later, Tony would think it was strange, the things your brain hung on to when something monumental occurred in your life. The ferry disaster had taken place on Monday, and he’d had an entire day in between to calm down.

 

Which he absolutely had not done.

 

Tony wasn't sure the last time he'd been so furious.

 

Well. Scratch that. The memory of the cave in Siberia was still fresh but even that only eked out his anger at the events of the last few days.

 

_That kid_. That stupid, irresponsible, reckless…

 

He'd ranted all about it to Rhodey during his PT session Monday night. His friend had stood with his hands gripping the parallel bars he was walking between, silent, an unreadable expression on his face. When Tony had finished his rant, he'd turned towards his friend, expecting some sympathy. And what did he get?

 

A shrug.

 

“Kid kind of sounds like you've been rubbing off on him a little.”

 

Tony had sputtered as if it were, possibly, the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Excuse me? I am not…”

 

Rhodey was not having it, though. “You are exactly all of those things.” And the man had turned, about face, and continued with his exercises without another word.

 

Tony grumbled to himself now at the memory. Peter Parker was _not_ like him. Peter Parker was smarter than he was when he was his age, Peter Parker was kind and humble and generous and a good kid and that was what frustrated him so much about what had happened with the Ferry. Peter Parker _was_ better than him, in every way, or at least he had the potential to be, but the kid _just didn't listen_.

 

_ If you had just listened to me! _

 

Tony shook away the plaintive memory. No use dwelling on something that didn't matter anymore. He had done what needed to be done, the responsible adult thing. Maybe he'd circle back in another year or so, maybe the kid would mature a little by then and realize his mistakes. God knew Tony Stark wasn't above giving someone a second chance, not when he'd benefited from so many of them himself.

 

He pulled into the garage connected to their office building, reciprocating a nod that the security guard at the gate sent his way. It wasn’t customary for him to drive himself around, but Happy was dealing with the plans for the transport to the Compound later that week. It was a nice change of pace though, and he parked in the spot marked for himself that so often went bare.

 

Aside from the hiccup at the Ferry, Tony thought things were going pretty smoothly.

 

The sale of the Tower went through without a hitch. His attendance at the buyer’s daughters wedding had sealed the deal---they had eaten and talked well into the morning hours---and now Tony was preparing to fully move into the Compound upstate, leaving behind the memories of the tower with the rest of the team, ready to start anew on the bigger campus. It was perfect. No distractions---the rogue Avengers were annoying, at best, but they weren’t active and even when they were, Ross and his thugs were the only ones truly worried about any of it.

 

What he had not expected, on his way up to his offices to grab the forms Pepper had requested, was to run into May Parker.

 

“Mrs. Parker,” He greeted brightly, nodding at his assistant to give the okay. “What a pleasant surprise.”

 

She gave him a nervous smile. “Yes, well, I…” She cleared her throat, rising to her feet. “I hope it’s alright that I stop by unannounced, Mr. Stark, but I have something I really need to speak with you about. Something I had wanted to talk about when you first recruited Peter, actually…”

 

He’d stopped listening halfway through her ramble, waving a hand. “Of course, come on in. I have a meeting in another half hour but I can spare a few minutes.” He opened the door of his office, ushering her in towards a couple of chairs seated in front of a desk. “This is really a shared office, I don’t really have a set place to work out of, but this will do.”

 

“Of course, of course,” May sat down. “This is a bit of a delicate matter,”

 

Tony had moved to the side of the office, pouring himself and May a cup of coffee without asking. He made his way to the desk, setting her cup down, resting against the corner of the desk as he sipped. “Is this about the Internship? Look, I know the kid puts in a lot of time. And I saw that stuff on the news over the weekend, I bet all that stuff in DC about gave you a heart attack, but at least that... spider person, was there right? I mean…”

 

“Well,” She chuckled a little. “Peter was luckily on the ground, with his friend MJ. I think he has a bit of a crush on her but he won’t admit it.” She shook her head. “That’s not...that’s not exactly it, though yes, I do have some concerns with how much time he’s spending on the Stark work. Do you know he almost quit the Decathlon team? He’s already dropped band as well.”

 

“Well, I have to imagine that won’t be a problem anymore, as I'm sure he told you that we have severed that agreement.” Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets, beginning to pace slowly.  “Look, I know the kid is upset. But he needs to understand...I give my people a lot of leeways, but even I have rules, and he broke basically all of them. And I can’t give you details, but he could have hurt himself, or someone else."

 

May opened her mouth and Tony held up a hand to ward off what he expected to be objections. 

 

“I know he’s like your very special boy, or whatever, and he is very bright, but I can’t have that kind of liability in our line of work, you know we deal with highly volatile---”

 

“Mr. Stark,” She cut him off sharply. “We can discuss that later. I have a feeling that what I'm about to tell you may...complicate things a bit.”

 

This was one of those times, something told him. The times that Pepper had told him about, where he needed to stop and listen to other people instead of assuming what they were going to say and answering for them. He crossed his arms and listened expectantly. 

 

It would have concerned him, had he actually thought this was going to be anything groundbreaking or really important---in the scheme of what important qualified for in his day to day anymore. He expected a lecture about how much time Peter was spending on his “internship”. He was expecting, maybe, that she had discovered that the internship weekend upstate was actually a trip to Europe, or he expected, maybe, that was going to ask if there was any more to this internship, like if there was potential for grants or internships for Peter’s college. 

 

He did not expect what she said next.

 

“When you first came to our home,” She began softly. “I told you we took Peter in after my sister passed away. And that was true, but I didn’t tell you, that we’d always been pretty closely involved in his life. She was away often, for work, and his father wasn’t in the picture,” May looked up at him, and her anxious expression began to unnerve him. “My sister was Maya Hansen, and she was a geneticist.”

 

And suddenly, the room began to get smaller.

 

Tony stood up slowly, setting the cup of coffee on the corner he’d been leaning on. He backed away a little from May, making his way to the office chair in front of the PC and lowered himself into it slowly. He took a few deep breaths, and he smoothed the padded mat that sat under the keyboard a couple of times before looking at her.

 

“I...I knew your sister.” And it wasn’t a question. HIs mouth had become suddenly dry and he tried to swallow to relieve it, but it didn’t seem to help much. He made a noise to clear it. “I’m... I’m so sorry, about Miami. I’m sure you know, I was there…”

 

“Yes, it was all in the report we received when we identified her body at the morgue,” May said, though not unkindly; more like bland, without much emotion either way, but Tony flinched all the same. 

 

“I’m so sorry,” Tony repeated softly, not sure what else to say. “I know...I know it’s been a few years, but if there is anything you need…” He shook his head. “I feel like this should have come up before, why didn’t you mention this back in July?”   
  


May shrugged. “Well, honestly, I thought you knew. I _thought_ …” She huffed a short laugh. “Well, I thought a lot of things. And that’s why I’m here today.”

 

“Look,” Tony leaned back in the chair, rubbing absently at the glass top of the desk. “I can talk to Peter. Not that the kid is gonna want the special treatment, but this...changes things a little, and,” His face screwed up into a pained look. “Your sister was an, uh...a good person who just lost her way a little. Brilliant scientist. And…” He looked down at his hands. “I would like to make sure Peter is taken care of, then. I feel...a little responsible, for what happened to her.”

 

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Stark, but Maya made her own decisions. And I'm fully aware of what those entailed, though Peter isn’t completely and I’d like to keep it that way.”

 

“Of course.” He nodded, sitting up straighter. “But, I would like to give him another shot, if you think he’d be up for it. He seemed...upset, the other day, but I want you to understand how important I take the safety of my staff.”

 

“And I’m happy to hear that.” May made a face and waved a hand, shaking her head. “But that’s not what this is about. This is about you, and my sister and...and Peter.”

 

He frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.” 

 

May pressed her lips together, clearly hesitant. “Mr. Stark, I’m aware that you and my sister...knew each other, before Miami. That she and yourself had met sometime near the end of 1999?”

 

Tony flushed, eyes shooting open but he managed a sly grin. He leaned back in his seat, resting a hand under his chin. “Oh. Yes. Yes, we...we did, but that was,” He cleared his throat. “It was brief. It was very brief. We talked shop and we rang in the New Year…is there a reason to bring that into this?”

 

May stared at him in silence. It was the kind of look someone got on their face when they couldn’t seem to believe the person they were talking to was this unaware, and it took Tony’s thought process a moment to reroute and when it did, he felt the air evaporate from his lungs. 

 

What he managed came out high and reedy. 

 

“Peter’s birthday was in August.”

 

May looked away, down at her lap, closing her eyes. The room began to spin.

 

Panic. There was panic. 

 

“The BERN conference,” He managed to choke out and pushed himself a little away from the desk, rigid in his chair. And he suddenly remembered the moment in Malibu when Maya had shown up right before Christmas and joked about the 13-year-old out in his driveway.

 

But she’d never actually said it was a joke.

 

He wasn’t sure what happened next, but May was suddenly next to him and he was bent over with his hands pressed against his chest and she was telling him to breathe. 

 

“Tony, I think you may be having a panic attack,”

 

“You think?!” He wheezed, trying to focus. “This wouldn’t be my first…”

 

“Is there anything I can do?”

 

“You can---” He gasped, pushing himself to his feet. “You can just...give me some space---”

 

He spun around, staggering towards the floor to ceiling glass panes overlooking the city. May hung back as he stared off across the skyline and worked on regulating his breathing, a hand splayed against the window. 

 

It only took him a few minutes, but when he managed to get himself pulled together, he straightened up, pulling back from where he leaned against the window. He straightened his suit jacket, pulling at the collar of his button-down silk shirt and turned around slowly.

 

May Parker was still there, leaning against his desk. She was all bunched up, tense and nervous, hand fiddling with a bauble on her necklace. She looked close to tears. 

 

“So let me get this straight,” He began slowly. “You’re...you came here to tell me, that not only is this intern I fired the other day Maya Hansen’s son...but...mine as well?”

 

The _mine_ came out strangled and Tony closed his eyes to keep from freaking out again. 

 

“I only know what Maya told me, but if she was telling the truth about Switzerland then,” May shrugged. “Timelines add up.”

 

Tony pressed a hand to his face, mind spinning.“And you’ve known all this time.”

 

“She told me after the Battle in New York. She hadn’t said anything up until that point, and you should understand, she’d been living with us his whole life. I mean, she brought him home from the hospital to our apartment.”   
  


His brain was running slow at the moment, a processor with too little RAM, but through the fog, he could imagine it, Maya and May and a tiny carrier and somehow the idea of it hurt him and he could tell from the shame on May’s face that his expression must have given that away. “So he’s been in Queens this whole time? He’s been right there, and no one...thought to drop me an email? A phone call?”

 

“She didn’t think you would want to know.” She answered quietly. 

 

As many questions as he had, and as much as there was a fit of anger beginning to churn in his gut, he couldn’t put all of that on May. It wasn’t May’s decision to keep any of this from him, it was Maya’s. May had only taken care of Peter all this time, and for that, Tony knew he should only be grateful.

 

“What about after she died? Why not then?”

 

May shrugged. “She had been pretty clear about you. And Ben and I were all he knew and I guess...we were afraid.” She looked away. “It probably wasn’t the right thing to do. In hindsight. But we did what we really believed was best for Peter.”

 

“And now?” Tony’s eyes narrowed. “I come down on him for some reckless behavior---and believe me, I can’t even tell you because it’s confidential, but it _was reckless_ \---and all of a sudden now you decide I deserve to know because, because what? You want some money or or-or, you need...what?”

 

He needed to head his anger off but there was something about the way May was standing there after dropping this nuke on him, this deer in the headlights, clearly no idea what to say next look that just...pissed him off so much and he felt like fire was burning behind his eyes.

 

“You have every right to be angry.” She began softly. “Whatever happened between you and Peter, he made it sound really final. I’d always been able to tell myself we didn’t do anything because you were so far away, it was like you weren’t even real, but...here you were.” She shook her head, wringing the strap of her purse in her hand. “If Peter was to ever find out about it some other way, and that I knew?”

 

“So this is about you feeling guilty? It has nothing to do with the fact that he and I had gotten close and should maybe know that hey, we share 50% of our genome?”

 

“You fired him.”

 

“Because he put himself in danger, not because I didn’t care about him!” Tony snapped. Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. Okay, I really need...I need some space. This is a lot.”

 

“I can only imagine.” She near whispered. “What are you going to do now?”

 

“What part of ‘a lot’ do you not get?” He asked sharply. “I’m gonna need some time.”

 

“Are you going to tell him?”

 

“Don’t you think that should probably come from you, considering you’re the one who’s been keeping it from him all this time?”

 

She seemed to acknowledge the pot shot that it was with relative grace. “I just ask that whatever you choose, please give me a heads up before you do it.” May pleaded. “Please just...don't take him away from me.”

 

Tony’s head snapped up. He stared at her for a few quiet moments and tried to think of this from her point of view.

 

Dead sister, dead husband, all in the span of a couple of years, and some dumb earnest golden retriever of a nephew with a heart of gold.

 

“I’m pretty aware of how people perceive me, Mrs. Parker, but I can promise you, I don’t always fall within that standard.” He grew unusually somber. “I’d never do that to Peter. Or you, regardless of what has happened. That kid loves you and I know you love him. I don’t know what I'm gonna do, honestly, I need some time but I promise, I will clue you in before I say anything to him about it.”

 

She appeared to deflate in relief, a hand grasping at her chest. “Thank you.” 

 

It was all he could do to hope she wasn’t about to start crying. Her eyes were shiny, she seemed close, and he stepped a few paces back in case she was about to hug him.

 

“I don’t mean to be rude, but can you go? I need…” He looked back out at the city. “I just need some time to think about all of this.”

 

She seemed a little taken aback for a moment, but seemed to quickly agree. She began to gather up her things about her---at some point, she had placed her purse on his desk and he could tell she was flustered. 

 

“Is he okay?”

 

She looked back at him in bewilderment. “I mean...yes? At least as okay as he was on Monday.”

 

But that wasn’t what he meant, and he didn’t know how to explain it.

 

It was as if it had become night, the sky black. The sun was out and shining but for Tony, it felt like darkness because…

 

Up was down, black was white.

 

_ He had a kid. _

 

And all he could think of clearly, in the haze of a 1000 things clouding up his mind right now was---,

 

_ Is he okay? _

 

He knew Peter probably wasn’t _happy_ at the present time; he himself had seen to that, and he held back a groan at the idea of having to figure out how to undo that while still getting the message through to the kid that he could, under no circumstances, intercept felons on a public ferry.

 

And god, did that whole fiasco now strike a deeper chord of fear within him.

 

What if Tony hadn’t been in the city? What if he hadn’t gotten to them in time? What about the night out at the lake?

 

Tony closed his eyes against it. 

 

“That’s…” He shook his head. “Never mind, I’ll check in with you guys later. And I’ll keep you in the loop. But thanks for….” He made a motion with his hand. “For coming, I guess.”

 

She’d made her way to the double doors of the office by the front of the room and gave him a weak glance. “I am really sorry. For all of this. I should’ve told you when you first came to our place.”

 

She should’ve, he thought, but that would do nothing for them now. “It’s alright. It’s understandable.” He pressed a hand to his face. “Please just go. I do promise, I’ll give you a call if I decide to do anything about what you’ve just told me but honestly, I think it’ll be a good amount of time before that happens.” He forced a polite smile. “Thank you for coming.”

 

May left without another word. He waited until the doors had both closed behind her to let out some kind of noise between a groan and a growl and made his way to the liquor cabinet he, thank god, kept mostly stocked with his favorite scotch. He grabbed the decanter, pouring a few fingers of his most expensive into a crystal tumbler and downing it, trying to quell his racing thoughts. 

 

He needed…

 

Help.

 

God, he needed someone to help him figure out what to do, someone to _tell him_ what to do. What he really needed, was just someone there with him, someone to sit and to maybe listen and to maybe help convince himself that this wasn’t just the worst fucking thing that had ever happened to any of them. He thought about Rhodey, but then dismissed it---considering the discussion from his PT session, Rhodes had enough going on and frankly, Tony wanted to know more about how he was going to deal with all this upfront before dropping that kind of bomb. 

 

This day had just spiraled. He'd woken up and worked out and gotten a shower, everything had been planned accordingly, and the drive into the city had been so nice and relaxing, and he'd felt like things were finally getting stable again after the shitshow his life had been since Steve Rogers had decided to start a war. 

Something in his mind clicked. 

 

_The drive into the city_.

 

And suddenly, he knew just where he needed to go


	6. Chapter 6

Tony had two more glasses of scotch and had done some research on his own before the sunset over Manhattan. He made his way to a personal lab he had in the office building, hidden away by a span of a wall that only a few others knew about and he got to work. He had F.R.I.D.A.Y pull everything he possibly could on Peter---school records dating back as far as the kid has gone to school, photos from a shared drive associated with a Gmail account he was able to identify as Maya's, other types of official records.

 

 _Maya Hansen_ , listed as the Mother on his birth certificate.

 

 _Father Unknown_ , where his name could have been.

 

Seeing that was when he'd poured the second drink.

 

Much of this he could have found had he actually done some due diligence before making his way over to Queens and plucking the boy from the safety of what at the time was benign light felony-level work. He'd smuggled the kid into Germany and tossed him in the middle of a fight between some of the most fierce and powerful people in the world, and he'd barely thought further than just getting Steve _to stop._

 

Would it have made a difference, he wondered, had he known? Was some strange 14 year any more disposable than one he’d been closer to?

 

He dug around in the Gmail account he’d found by going through May Parker’s contacts. It hadn’t been hard to figure out which one was probably her’s, May only had a few, and he was able to see she’d had ownership of this one--- _hanma76_ \---which been dormant since mid-2013, a few months before everything in Miami went down. 

 

Getting in didn’t take long either. Once he'd attained access, he found there wasn’t much---mostly just emails between Maya and May and Ben Parker that looked to date back around 2005, but some of those emails had attachments of photos and while it felt sort of skeezy to be digging around, he could help but feel entitled to it. 

 

He assumed they had been sent during one of the times May had mentioned when Maya had been away. He didn’t open everything, but he poked around a little; a science fair here, or little league there. Peter had been a cute little kid, with freckles and a wide toothy smile, and wild curls that seemed only more dense the longer they were allowed to grow.

 

Maya’s hair had been straight, just like May’s. He couldn’t know if that was natural or not, and while his own coif was wild and wavy, sticking out in all sorts of directions unless tamed by some kind of pomade, he couldn’t help but think of how his mother’s hair was naturally brown and curly when she'd allowed it to be.

 

Maybe Peter had gotten that from them. He couldn’t know.

 

A DNA test here would alleviate a lot of his growing anxiety. He wasn’t sure what was keeping him from running it; at this point, all he had was May’s word, but something about doing that felt intrusive. And also kind of scary. Right now, it was an idea he was processing but if he did that, and it came back positive?

 

Then it was really real.

 

They’d done a brief panel on Peter in relation to the mutation at some point to make sure the kid wasn’t in danger and the sample lay dormant in his records; it wouldn’t be hard to do.

 

He glanced at the clock. Somehow, it was nearing close to 8. He gathered the forms he’d promised Pepper earlier in the day and flipped through them, making sure he’d filled out everything. He slid them under her door after he left the lab, just as he’d told her and made his way towards the garage, stopping by the Security booth before heading towards his car.

 

“Hey Stan,” He greeted the guard from earlier, attempting to smile easily. “You know if Ms. Potts plane came in yet?”

 

The guard nodded. “Got an alert she was wheels down at 6:15 but that she would not be in the office until tomorrow.” His brow furrowed. “You alright, Mr. Stark? You look a little tired.”

 

“It’s nothing, but thank you. This week has just been a little much, what with the tower sale getting finalized.” His smile tightened. “Appreciate the concern though.”

 

The guard smiled.”Always, sir. You have a good evening now.”

 

“You too, Stan. Don’t work too hard.”

 

“I never do.”

 

Even if he hadn’t had his own spot off in the corner of the lot, the garage was pretty bare at this time of the night. Pepper’s apartment wasn’t far from the office and traffic was blessedly sparse, so he found himself outside her building relatively quickly, staring up at the floor he knew was all hers. 

 

He hadn’t ever been here at night. The one time he’d swung by was when they had both been on the way to the office and he’d gone up with Pepper to get something she needed, and he could not deny he had scanned the living room to see if he could find any evidence of someone else residing there. His nosiness hadn’t gone unnoticed, and ever since then, Pepper had been uncomfortable with the idea of having him over. 

 

Which only made him more suspicious and nervous about going up to her place unannounced. The idea of finding another man sharing her space, on top of everything else---he wasn’t sure he’d handle it all that well.

 

But he’d come all this way. And this was important---if what May had told him was true, there would be implications outside of just Tony’s personal feelings about it, and Pepper would have to deal with it eventually.

 

It was business. Sure. Tony could go with that.

 

He nodded to the doorman without a word and took the elevator up to her floor. His hands were clammy and his heart raced, and he took a few quiet moments to go over what he had come up with on his short drive over, the basics of what he wanted to say.

 

_You remember the kid? The spider-kid, from Germany? Yes, the one you got really mad at me about?_

 

_Well, it turns out…._

 

He closed his eyes. There was no way this was going to go over well. 

 

He knocked on the door and waited, and the seconds before the door opened felt like hours. He heard her unlatch the locks and saw her confused expression through the crack in the door. Pepper’s mouth dipped in a frown.

 

“Tony? What are you doing here, it’s almost 9 o’clock.” Her brow crinkled. “Did something happen with the forms? Don’t tell me something changed with the sale.”

 

“It...it didn’t. It’s not the tower stuff, but I…” His eyes rolled up to stare at a spot on the ceiling. “There is something I need to talk to you about, something that...could affect the company.”

 

Now her eyes narrowed, and if she had been concerned about him, it was gone. “What did you do?”

 

“I didn’t _do_ anything.” _At least, not recently._

 

“You’ve been drinking.” And it wasn’t a question. 

 

“Not really as much as you think,” He began, unable to keep a small grin from his face. He knew he must look like he’d had an entire barrel of scotch to what he’d actually drank. “But way less than I deserve, considering what I just found out.”

 

She eyed him warily. “Is it Steve?”

 

Tony scoffed. Actually, for the first time in so many weeks, he’d stopped thinking about Steve and the rogue Avengers for a few hours. Because now Steve wasn’t at the top of the list of his problems. No, the top of the list of his problems was the 15-year-old kid that Pepper and Rhodey and Happy had **_told him_** not to bring into the fold, the kid that had proven them right, the kid that, surprise Pepper, turned out to be his goddamned son.

 

And suddenly he just felt very tired. Pepper must have noticed his shoulders sag because she softened. “Tony?”

 

“Can I please come in?” He asked softly. “I know things are still a little weird between us, so I hope you know I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t really need to. Can I please just...can I just sit with you? Would that be alright?”

 

Her mouth opened slightly as if she were trying to figure out an excuse, but she gave that up quickly enough and gave a slow nod. She stepped back, opening the door to the rest of her apartment revealing---

 

An empty room. There was no one else there, no indication he was interrupting any kind of night in with another guy and he felt a little ridiculous to be relieved when he was trying to deal with something so monumental. 

 

“Well?” She broke into his thoughts. “You can sit over on the sofa. Do you want anything? Water, tea, a glass of wine?”

 

“Whatever you’re having..”

 

She met him on the couch, holding two glasses of some kind of white wine and he barely took a sip before placing it on the table in front of them. She took a bit more than that, clearly trying to prepare herself for what she expected to be a stressful conversation.

 

“Okay,” She breathed. “First off, you look like you swallowed a bug, so excuse my concern but what are you doing here, Tony?”

 

“Well…” He sighed deeply. “I guess...I want to say upfront, I didn’t know about any of this.”

 

Pepper didn’t look reassured. “Okay….”

 

“You know that kid? The Spider kid, the one that you got mad at me about?”

 

She pressed her lips together. “The fourteen-year-old you made a suit for and threw at Steve? Yeah, I remember him.”

 

“He’s fifteen. Anyway,” Tony took a deep breath. “You know how I told you he lives with his Aunt, that his Uncle died?”

 

“Yeah, all of that.” She paled. “Oh god, did his Aunt find out and freak out?” She made an aggravated sound, rising to her feet to stand over him. “I told you, Tony, I told you this was going to happen---”

 

“She didn’t find out,”

 

“---the press is going to have a field day, and when they find out you took a teenager across international borders without parental consent---”

 

“They’re not going to--”

 

“---legal is going to hit the goddamn roof, I don’t even want to think about what the board is going to---”

 

“He’s my son!”

 

She stopped mid-rant, her mouth hanging open. “Wh..what?”

 

“He’s my son,” Tony repeated, more quietly. “Peter is, apparently, according to his Aunt, my son.”

 

“According to his aunt?” She blinked a few times. “And you just...believed her?”

 

“His mother’s name was Maya Hansen.”

 

Pepper flinched at the name and rocked back on her heels. He reached out to steady her but she held up her hands, pushing him away. “No. No! Wait, I just….” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Maya Hansen?”  


“She worked with---”

 

“I know who Maya Hansen is!” She snapped, hands finding their way to her hips. “I’m just trying to...to process this.”

 

“Why are you yelling at me, I’m just trying to---!” Tony breathed heavily out of his nose. “Look. I wanted this to go...different, more calmly, but yes. According to May, he is mine and Maya’s...son.”

 

Multiple expressions made their way across her face in a matter of moments, and she closed her eyes, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Okay. Alright. Let me just…” She lowered herself onto the couch next to him and grabbed for her wine, taking another long sip. “Okay. So you don’t know, for certain, that Peter is your...yours?”  


Tony shook his head. “May stopped by this afternoon, which gave me a little bit of time to do some digging. Maya and May were definitely siblings, she and her husband helped to raise Peter, just like May said and his birth certificate….” His breath caught. “It doesn’t have a father named.”  


“But you didn’t run any kind of DNA test?”  


Tony shrugged. “We have some data on file I think would work but I think I just…” He breathed out heavily. “I think I needed a little bit of time to process...this?” He leaned back against the couch and ran his hands into his hair. “I’m pretty skeptical of people, you know? And May Parker hasn’t, and didn’t, ask me for _anything_. She just didn’t want me to leave Peter on bad terms without knowing everything, that’s what she said. And I can’t help but think about what Maya said to me---”   


“What did she say to you?”

 

He opened his eyes and let his head drop to the side, staring at her. “You remember...when Maya showed up at the Malibu house? You were upstairs getting everything ready to leave after---”

 

“After you threatened a terrorist on live television? Yes.”

 

He looked at her blandly. “Anyway. You were still upstairs, but she made some sort of comment about a 13-year-old kid being in the car and she played it off like it was a joke but now…”

 

“You don’t think it was.”

 

“I think it was her way of telling me without having to tell me.” He finished weakly. “Like... a secret she was keeping, on top of all the other ones. It explains why she was willing to kill herself to get him to let me go.”

 

Pepper was watching him quietly, letting him talk through it. She waited until he trailed off and stared, unblinking at the wall in front of him. 

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

He made a weak gesture with his arms. “I don’t know. I don’t know! Do I tell the kid?” He immediately shook his head, pitching forward. “I mean, I don’t want to do that. At least not right now, I’m pretty sure he hates my guts after the ferry thing.”

 

“Ferry thing? From Monday?”  


“Yeah. Yeah, I took the suit away from him for being reckless.” He pointed at her, brows arching. “It was very responsible adult of me, you would have been proud. But he was pretty upset and so I don’t know if _now_ is the best time...or ever….”

 

“And you came here because…”

 

He looked over at her, gentle and uncertain, and he let his gaze drop to the fabric of the sofa, shifting awkwardly. “I just needed someone to talk to. And I wasn’t lying, about it possibly affecting the company---if this were to get out, I imagine it would cause a pretty major PR shitstorm. You were just...I was kind of flailing and you were the only person I wanted to see.”

 

She smiled softly. “Tony. I’m more than happy to help you talk through something like this but I think you need to figure out how you feel about this and how you want to deal with it. I can’t tell you what the right thing is here.”

 

But that wasn’t what he wanted, not really. He would never have asked that of her, to make such a monumental decision, not when it involved some innocent kid. He just wanted someone to talk to about it. Someone he trusted. 

 

It was always Pepper.

 

“That isn’t what I want,” He assured her. “I...I think I want to tell him. Eventually. But I kind of want to get to know him more first, outside of the recordings from his patrols. I think...I’m gonna give him the suit back, first off. Then maybe do some more intern stuff, maybe invite him to the lab upstate.” He looked at her sideways. “Do you think it’s wrong of me to keep it from him?”

 

She seemed to weigh his words, and when she spoke, her own was clearly measured. “I think that if you’re going to keep it from him until you choose not to, you’d better have a good reason if you don’t want him to be angry.”

 

He looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. “I must’ve been worse than I thought, if she kept it from me, you know? All these years, all those false claims, but the one time it may be real….”

 

He felt her fingers cup his chin, forcing him to look at her. Her expression was firm, eyes fixing on his. “I’m gonna let that one go because this is such a shock, but that is the only self-pity party moment you’re allowed. If this is real, it is not about you---Maya made a choice and you’ll never really know why. What you do know, is that there is a real chance you have a kid so you do what you can with that.”

 

He shifted his gaze, the eye contact making him uncomfortable. “He’s such a good kid, Pep. You’d like him.”

 

“I’m sure I would,” She replied quietly. “You really should do that DNA test though. As soon as you can.”

 

“I know.” He acknowledged. She leaned back away from him against the arm of the chair, her hand falling from his face. His lips twisted in a frown. “I’m really sorry. I know this can’t be easy for you to listen to. After what Maya helped do to you…”

 

“None of that is Peter’s fault.” Pepper replied. “If he is your kid, then we’re gonna have to figure all of this out. Which is why the DNA test is so important. You could be doing this to yourself over nothing.” 

 

“I know. I will.” He paused for a moment. “Maya’s still his mom, though, regardless. That complicates things, don’t you think?”

 

“Yes,” she responded, after a moment of silence. “Yes, I think it probably does.”

  


* * *

 

He stayed.

 

He stayed in her extra room, though. Tony knew she hadn’t meant for him to share her bed, and it was late and he’d developed a massive headache. Sleep was still pretty elusive to him usually, but the day had left him emotionally wrought and he’d slept at least 6 hours, rising before Pepper had and making breakfast before they left in the morning, and he dropped her off at the office on his way back to his penthouse.

 

They planned for dinner on Friday, a sort of celebration of the Tower’s closing, and she’d invited him home under a half-lidded gaze fueled by wine and a candlelit dinner. Tony knew it may not be the wisest proposition he'd ever agreed to; he was vulnerable and she was there, he knew the situation wasn’t fair to either of them.

 

But god---he'd missed her. 

 

They got back to her penthouse. She was wearing a black, backless dress and modest heels, her hair drawn up high and red lipstick pulled into a smile. 

 

He’d give up the suits for her, now, if she’d ask; he was almost sure of it.

 

He started towards her, draping his sport coat over a chair in the kitchenette area. She’d poured a couple of glasses of dessert wine and rested them on the coffee table, but right now all he wanted to do---as ridiculous as it sounded---was hold her hands and look at her, and find the all familiar refuge there. 

 

Instead, as he began to make his way across the room, his phone rang.

 

Tony smiled sheepishly, holding up a finger as he grabbed the phone from his pants pocket.  A quick glance revealed Happy’s caller ID, and considering the jet had taken off a few hours before, he assumed this was a quick assurance that it had all gone as planned and that he needn’t worry about anything further.

 

He had no idea, as he mouthed Happy’s name across the room to his potentially no longer ex-girlfriend, how wrong he was. 

 

“Uh hey, boss.”

 

Alarm bells went off in Tony’s mind. He glanced at the clock on the wall, a frown forming on his face. Pepper raised a brow at him from the other side of the couch, noticing how he’d stiffened. 

 

It was a little after 10 o’clock at night, the cargo plane should have been upstate by now. But Happy didn’t sound like he was calling to celebrate. There was a weird vibrato to his voice, a shake in it, and it set Tony on edge. Plus, Happy didn’t call him boss or sir, not ever, not unless something was serious.

 

“Hap. Everything alright with the jet?”

 

“Um…” Happy cleared his throat once, then twice. “Well. Yes. Kind of.”

 

“Kind of.”

 

“Yeah, well it’s kind of a bit of….bad news, but also really good news. Which do you want first?”

 

“I don’t know Hap, surprise me.”

 

He heard shuffling on the other end. “Well, the good news is that the cargo is all safe and accounted for and that nothing has been damaged or stolen, and no one is hurt. Badly.”

 

 _Stolen. Hurt_. Tony’s stomach began to churn. Pepper's brows were furrowed and he turned away, beginning to pace around the living room. “And what’s the bad news, Happy?”

 

“That it’s only because Spiderman stopped the Vulture from hijacking the plane---”

 

And suddenly Tony’s heart twisted in his chest; he could hear the blood pounding in his ears. Because Happy wasn’t done talking, his breath only caught and Tony could hear the hesitation before he continued. Tony pressed a hand against the wall, physically bracing himself for the rest. Huskily, he spoke, prodding Happy on. 

 

“And?” 

 

Happy let out a breath, the words spilling out in a flood.

 

“----and he crashed it into Coney Island. Sir.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything from here on out will be Peter and Tony intensive, i promise. this is the end of the groundwork. there may be more than 10 chapters but I think i'm still charting that---we'll see! until then, this story itself will end before the event of IW.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to add a reminder: we've all seen homecoming here (i assume) and i know i've at least read and rewritten some of the scenes from it enough that we get the drift, so i won't be rehashing the scenes from the movie. just---building my own little world around them :) sorry it's been longer than a week, work has been absolute murder the past few weeks, but i am going on vacation this week and will probably have some time to write so!
> 
> hope you guys all enjoy!

_Tony was on the beach._

 

_He’d seen the footage of the wreckage. There had been news cameras and twitter videos from distant bystanders of the crash and the explosion; he could see, in the distance, how it’d glowed orange and reds in the night against the sand and now, he could feel the heat and the sting of it, could smell the metal and plastic burning near the water._

 

_Now, he stood, amongst it all. A piece of shrapnel from the plane began to shift and Tony braced himself as a figure emerged, bright as fire and rage._

 

_They were incandescent, at first, unrecognizable and completely aflame, but as the frame lumbered its way closer to where Tony stood, the fire began to burn away, revealing skin that glowed in patches, like scales on a fish. He was stuck in place, unable to step back. The figure took shape, became more defined and he reeled back as recognition took hold._

 

_“This,” Maya hissed at him, arms spread out by her side, glowing patches all over her body in different shades of orange, flames erupting from open wounds as she sauntered closer. “This is why I didn’t tell you about him. This is what you were gonna do to him all along…”_

 

_“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s voice broke through the chaos, high and strained and Tony heard him cough from somewhere in the wreckage and flames, but he couldn’t see him. “Mr. Stark, please, I need your help.”_

 

_“Peter, stay where you are. I’m gonna find you.” Tony bellowed, turning away from the sight of his once lover, facing the carnage. He couldn’t see anything, not through the smoke and the fire, and again, Maya flickered into existence, blocking his path._

 

_“You’re gonna get him killed. At least **I** kept him out of this mess, but you? You pulled him into it. You coerced him to be your little sidekick, you dragged him in head first to the fighting.” _

 

_“Yeah, and who’s fault is that?” Tony snapped. “Maybe if you had told me about him in the first place, this would’ve never happened. I could’ve stopped it, he wouldn’t have even gotten bitten. God knows I wouldn’t have let him go to **Norman’s** shop…” _

 

_“You’re gonna get him killed.” She spat, leaning towards him, reaching with a glowing hand. “Just like you got **me** killed.” _

 

_“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s please was high and more strained, panicked and hurt. “Tony? Please help me. I’m scared. I need your help, Mr. Stark_

 

_But the flames only grew and the heat only intensified, higher and higher and higher. Tony ignored Maya, turning away, turning towards the sound of Peter’s terrified cries, and he pressed into the fire and the flames, searching for the source._

 

_“Peter!”_

 

Tony shot up in bed. 

 

“Boss?”

 

The AI caught his attention and he fell back on his pillow, closing his eyes with a sigh. “Yeah, F.R.I, what time is it?”

 

“It’s approximately 11:06 am. You overslept your alarms.”

 

“Gee, if only I had some kind of system set up to prevent that kind of misstep.”

 

“The alarms performed as configured,” She responded, sounding just a little perturbed. “I believe you may have slept through them considering the stress of the past few days.”

 

Ah. yes. The _stress_ of the last few days. The stress that had pretty much kept him up since he’d gotten that awful call from Happy, the stress that had basically kept him wired until he collapsed out of complete exhaustion sometime around 2 am earlier on this Monday morning.

 

That stress.

 

“My apologies, F.R.I.,” He groaned, pushing himself to sit upright. “Has Happy called about the visit later today?”

 

“Mr. Hogan has cleared the pickup with May Parker at 3 pm at Midtown Academy. Their expected arrival time should be shortly after 4 pm.”

 

He nodded, rubbing absentmindedly at his neck. Good. That meant he had a few hours to get a work out in and clean up and get last-minute stuff done for the presser they were holding.

 

He’d been designing a couple of new suits for Peter ever since they’d returned from Germany, unbeknownst to the kid himself. Today, he would offer the boy a spot on the Avengers, though it would be contingent on making sure the kid maintained anonymity. His Aunt wasn’t in the know yet, and Tony assumed Peter wanted it to stay that way. Adding the kid to their ranks was a big step but after the past weekend…

 

Tony sighed heavily, pushing himself from his bed and heading towards the coffee. To say he had reacted poorly to the events of Friday night would be an understatement. After he had gotten done yelling at poor Happy, Pepper had barely been able to talk him down from getting a suit and flying over to the Parker’s to check and make sure the boy wasn’t half-dead from injuries related to a _plane crash_.

 

“How are you going to explain why you’re barging in, fully suited up, at almost 11 o’clock at night? Because if she doesn’t know about Spiderman, she will then and that’s gonna make all of this _even worse_.” Pepper had insisted. 

 

She’d taken the phone from Tony, hoping a calmer head would prevail and it had---she was able to gain assurance from Happy that he’d confirmed the kid was okay, over at a friend's for the night resting, and that they were cleaning stuff up at the crash site as they spoke. 

 

It was decided by the next morning Tony would wait until Monday, which would give him enough time to calm down and get his head right, and Pepper enough to plan for what they would tell the press.

 

Because the truth was this: Spiderman had left evidence at the scene of a massive disaster that he had been involved in. Spiderman had been the one to help apprehend Adrian Toomes, and Pepper had decided the best way to manage it was by taking a proactive messaging strategy, straight to the media themselves.

 

Which left Tony with some decisions to make. 

 

Once he’d been able to stop the roiling of his guts long enough to keep something down, he’d practically mainlined coffee for the 48 hours after he found out about all of this. The first thing he decided to do was run the paternity test. Usually, they took a couple of days but F.R.I.D.A.Y would be able to get it resolved quicker than that and so he set it up and let the computer start figuring it all out.

 

The next order of business was the suits. Of course, he was planning on giving the original suit back to Peter---training wheel protocol re-engaged, of course, and hopefully this time, unhackable.

 

Mentally, he made a side note to talk about whoever Peter’s friend was because, quite frankly, Tony was impressed. 

 

But he had other designs he’d been messing around with. The nanotech suit was more exciting, he thought, and now that he was feeling a little more concerned with how reckless Peter apparently could be when he got caught up in things, he thought the armor would be an even greater asset.

 

That’s the one, he’d decided somewhere between Saturday at midnight and 4 am Sunday; that was the one they’d present him into the cameras.

 

The Avengers decision was much more difficult.

 

Practically, it made sense; the kid had more than proven himself with the Toomes thing and before in Germany. Tony would have to have a serious talk with him about listening to Tony if he was told to stand down, but to be honest, they needed the help and there was something about having the kid close that made him feel a little more at ease. Whether it was that he would be able to keep a better eye on him, or he just wanted to be around the kid, he couldn’t tell for sure.

 

He was pretty sure it was a little of both.

 

It felt odd, maybe a little wrong. He’d always really liked Peter, even before May came to his office; the whole earnest, the _bad things happen_ speech had really stuck with Tony. Peter had experienced an inordinate amount of trauma for being so young, and yet he had been so...true when he’d said all of that. He still really believed you could carve the good from the bad and save people, and Tony wanted to preserve it, that goodness in him, for as long as he could. Peter really believed in it. Tony wanted it to last for as long as he could help it. 

 

Because that was the difference, now. There was something about finding out that it was possible Peter was his son that had made him pause; a responsibility that wasn’t quite there before, to keep the kid safe and on the ground. There was even some weird kind of instinct, a sour feeling in his stomach that twisted when he thought of all the things that could have gone wrong, that wasn’t as strong before. He recognized it; he’d felt it when he’d watched Rhodes fall out of the sky and when Pepper had plunged into the flames below at the oil refinery.

 

The _possible_ caveat was eliminated come Sunday afternoon. F.R.I.D.A.Y had pulled Tony from a conversation about the presser with Pepper to let him know the results had been determined and Pepper held his hand as F.R.I.D.A.Y informed him of what he had already come to accept as truth.

 

He was a father. He had a son. No question about it.

 

Pepper’s grip had tightened. The skin between her eyes crinkled in worry and she looked at him. “Are you alright?”

 

He flexed his hand in her grip, coughing a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so. I mean, I had kinda already internalized it, I think but...phew.” He gave her a nervous smile. “Are you okay?”

 

“Of course,” She said with a reassuring smile, placing her free hand over their grip. “It’s going to be alright. We’re gonna handle this all tomorrow. Have you thought about what you’re going to say to him?”

 

It was a big question. What hadn’t Tony thought about saying to him? He had, after some thorough consideration, decided to hold off on telling Peter everything right away. He figured he’d give the kid his kudos for saving the plane and capturing Toomes, he’d offer the kid a spot on the Avengers and another, more high-profile legitimate internship here at the Compound and if Peter didn’t go tell him to jump in a lake, then maybe…

 

Tony didn’t know. He figured he’d know when the right time presented itself but for right now he kind of just wanted to get to know the kid outside of the Spider stuff. He wasn’t sure how Peter felt about his home life, but he couldn’t imagine absentee dad went over well and he didn’t want to ruin this before he got a chance to prove to Peter he was someone worth spending some time with.

 

And now it was Monday. Tony poured himself a cup of coffee and stared at the clock on the opposite wall. He had 5 or so hours before they’d be here and Pepper was already dealing with the preparation for the afternoon, so he decided to head down to his gym and get a little Wing Chun to work out some of his anxiety.

 

Which there was plenty of. So much, in fact, that he spent almost two hours beating the hell out of the wooden dummy before turning on his heavy bag, punching, and kicking until it felt like his lungs were going to collapse. 

 

He took a short break, gulping down half a bottle of water in one take before wiping the sweat from his eyes and changing his shirt. He still had more than enough time before Happy would be arriving and headed to his lab to kill some time before getting ready to face the mob.

 

3 hours later, he was freshly showered, sharply dressed and ready to go. He'd cleaned up in the lab, leaving out only a couple of things he wanted to show Peter. Part of this deal would involve a more structured internship, should Peter actually be interested, and though the teenager would be heading home by the end of the evening, Tony wanted to be able to actually show him _something_ ; something that would make the kid certain he’d want to come back.

 

Which is how he found himself, twitching and practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he watched from just inside the Compound as Happy pulled up to the curb. Tony watched as Peter emerged from the vehicle, staring up at the outside of the building with a look of absolute wonder on his face and there was a twist in Tony’s chest, just behind his breastbone.

 

_His son._

 

Tony’s breath caught. His head swam and his hand clenched into a fist at his side as he fought to maintain his bearing because, he told himself, aside from his recent discovery of the truth, this was still Peter. The kid who helped little old ladies find their way home and rescued cats from trees and was probably gonna get himself hurt or killed if Tony couldn’t get him to agree to a little bit of oversight once more, so Tony needed to keep it together and deal with a potential freakout _later_.

 

He pushed himself upright, forcing a hopefully easy smile on his face as Happy opened the door, ushering the kid inside. Peter was still looking around in amazement until his gaze landed on Tony’s face and his expression flattened. The kid took a deep breath as if bracing himself for something terrible but Tony figured that was only understandable considering their last conversation. He smiled wider and headed towards him.

 

“Mr. Parker! Hope the ride up wasn’t too bad, because _do I_ have an offer for you…”

 

* * *

 

Peter was in a daze, following Happy through the Compound to the room that Tony had told him he’d be staying in whenever he came up for a weekend.

 

Peter had his own room, apparently. At the Avengers Compound. Where the Avengers trained.

 

Because Mr. Stark had invited him to join _the Avengers_.

 

His mind reeled at the thought.

 

A small part of him was screaming internally, at himself and at the world, that not only had he been offered a spot on the Avengers, but that Peter had **_turned it down._** It had been under the guise, of course, that it was the responsible and mature decision, when really, it was the fact that the last three nights had been full of nightmares where he was buried alive under a building, sucking in musty air that turned to mud in his mouth and began to suffocate him.

 

But he couldn’t tell Mr. Stark that. 

 

Couldn’t tell anyone that, actually. Had to just ignore it, push it away, and not think about how close to death he’d probably come. Or about how he couldn’t wait to get back to the familiar rooftops of his Burrough, his bike thieves and the churro guy down the road. 

 

_Close to the ground_ , he’d said with a grin, and he’d meant it. Mr. Stark had seemed surprised and, maybe Peter was imagining it, but even a little disappointed. Like he’d really been looking forward to Peter joining the team and that had made Peter’s heart skip like he must have done a really, _really_ good job because Mr. Stark had really not wanted him back in that suit after the day on the Ferry. 

 

And _then_. He’d half expected Mr. Stark to dismiss him out of hand, but Mr. Stark had offered him a _real_ internship, told Peter that he’d underestimated him and that he had real potential and then told him Happy would show him to _his room_. His own room!

 

Peter waited until Happy left him standing just inside the doorway to pinch himself. Twice. He craned his head outside the doorway, making sure Happy was actually gone, before closing the door halfway and pulling out his phone immediately, dialing the number of the one person he knew would enjoy this almost as much as he was. 

 

“Dude,” Peter held his phone up for Ned to see, surveying the room Happy had brought him to. “Look at everything here, it’s amazing. I have my own room at the Avengers Compound, it’s even crazier than at home!”

“I hate you,” Ned responded flatly, rolling his eyes. “I mean, you won't let me tell anyone about this. And I helped! I don't understand any of that.”

 

“I swear,” Peter flipped the phone around, replying with a grin. “I promise, I’ll bring you up here one weekend so you can meet everyone.”

 

“You fucking better.” Ned’s face filled the screen as he stabilized the phone in front of it, tucking his hands under his face where he lay on his bed at home. “So Mr. Stark has cooled down a bit? You said he was so mad about the Ferry thing.”

 

Peter gave him a cocksure grin. “Of course, I saved all his stuff, he _had_ to let me back in. He even tried to make me an Avenger, but I told him I was cool staying closer to home for now. But that means eventually when I feel better about it---”

 

Ned shook his head again. “What even is your life?”

 

“I know, it’s sick.” Peter tossed himself down onto the bed with a sigh. “Happy’s gonna bring me home tonight. I told May I’d be back by 10, but I guess I’m coming back next weekend too? And I’m  gonna hang out with Mr. Stark the whole time, and help him with like his suit stuff, and even maybe SI stuff?”

 

“So like a legit internship?”

 

Peter nodded. “I guess I’m gonna be his personal intern. He must feel really bad about the Ferry thing.”

 

“You’re gonna be able to go anywhere you want for college, this is _so cool_ ,” Ned said, clearly awestruck. “Is he gonna pay you?”

 

Peter frowned. He hadn’t really asked, but he supposed it was a reasonable enough question. “I don’t think so, I mean. The experience itself is kind of priceless, you know? And maybe if I impress him enough I can get him to write me letters of recommendation and stuff.” He fell back onto the bed, his head hitting the pillow and lifted the phone so he could see the screen. “Maybe I won’t even go to college.”

 

“That would be dumb.”

 

“I’ll have the Avengers!”

 

“You can go to school _and_ be an Avenger. May would kill you if you didn’t go to college.”

 

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” Peter sighed. “Look, I’m gonna go snoop around a little more, maybe catch up with Mr. Stark. I think we’re gonna do dinner before Happy takes me home too, which is cool.”

 

“So cool,” Ned breathed. “You better tell me everything tomorrow.”

 

Peter grinned. “I will. I’ll talk to you later, bro.”

 

He tossed the phone onto the bed. Letting his gaze drift around the room, he let himself wonder about who else was staying at the Compound. Mr. Stark had warned him about Vision’s habit with a grin, but Peter knew enough to know that the Avengers were basically still in shambles. According to the news, Captain America was still considered missing, though there had been sightings and skirmishes around the world. Some of them involved the Black Widow, but then again, as far as Peter understood it, she had signed the Accords so shouldn’t she be okay? He knew she hadn’t been arrested, as the rest of them had been. 

 

The room was nice though; an azure blue with a beige carpet and relatively benign decor. The shelves on the wall were a darker wood, decorated with a fake plant here or there, and there was a white dresser against the wall with a television hanging above it and a matching desk with a laptop against an adjacent wall. 

 

Not completely generic and homey enough to feel comfortable in when he came for a weekend. Which, he supposed, was just the purpose it was meant to serve. 

 

A knock pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned his head to the side to see Mr. Stark standing in the doorway, staring at him laying on the bed. He grinned, and Peter flustered, sitting up with an apology.

 

“No, no, no, please, make yourself at home.” Tony stepped in, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I know it’s not exactly warm, but I figured you could add your own flair the more often you decided to come by, especially since you rejected my job offer.”

 

Peter flushed more. “It’s really great Mr. Stark, all of it. Is it really...mine to stay in?”

 

“Sure, now that you’re gonna be around a little more,” He paused. “If you want. I mean, I could give you a roommate…”

 

“No, no, Mr. Stark, really, it’s great.”

 

“Good. I hope it’s okay I stopped in, F.R.I said you were off the phone with your friend...”

 

“Ned. I go to Midtown with him.”

 

Tony’s brow wrinkled. “Would this by any chance be the whiz kid that broke into your suit and disabled my monitoring protocols?”

 

Peter hummed for a moment, eyes darting around the room, “Um…”

 

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

 

“Mr. Stark, please, don’t get mad at him or anything, I practically forced him to do it!” He blanched, realizing what he’d said, but he couldn’t stop then. “I mean, I know it was wrong, sir, and I swear, I’ll never let anyone or myself mess with anything ever again…”

 

“Pete, calm down buddy,” Tony said, holding a hand out with a grin. “I get that you learned your lesson, I’m not worried about it. I was just gonna say you should have him tag along some weekend. Any teenager who can hack into my stuff, I want to meet him.”

 

Peter’s eyes widened. “He...I was gonna...yeah, absolutely, Mr. Stark, I think he would love that. He’s gonna... _freak out_ …”

 

“Eh, it’s fine,” Tony waved him off, leaning against the desk. “Anyway, I know you gotta head home in a couple of hours, but I was gonna see if you wanted to join me in my lab for a bit. I figured I could show you around, give you an idea of what we’ll be working on in the next few weeks.”

 

_Mr. Stark’s lab_. Peter’s head swam. Of course, Mr. Stark had _told_ him he’d be working with him but there was still something about following Mr. Stark into a lab that made him incredibly nervous. “I, um...yeah that would be...cool?”

 

“Are you asking me or telling me kid?”

 

“Yes. Yes, it would be cool.”

 

“Good.” Tony pushed himself up straight. “C’ mon, I'll show you the way.”

 

Peter rose without another word, following the billionaire out of the room and through a series of halls Peter was sure he wouldn’t remember. He let his gaze wander, trying to keep his awe to a minimum but it was hard. He was, of course, comfortable with his own abilities, but while Peter had the intellect, he didn’t really have the economic means to optimize it; Mr. Stark had _both_ , and then some, and the opportunity to experience that was kind of making Peter’s head spin. 

 

Try as he might to be chill about the whole thing, Peter’s grasp on that slipped away when he walked through the door of the lab. He literally squeaked when the door slid shut behind him and locked into place and his face burned when Tony glanced at him over his shoulder, grinning wide.

 

“You like it?”

 

“Do I _like_ it?” Peter repeated, completely awestruck. He somehow managed to get his feet working and stumbled over to one of the bots he’d seen featured in every documentary he’d ever seen about Stark Industries (which, embarrassingly, was way more than just one) and lifted a hand as if he wanted to touch it but was afraid to. “This is Dum-E, right?”

Tony looked impressed. “Right in one. You familiar with…?” He gestured next to the robot and Peter glanced over, expression going soft. 

 

“ _U_.” 

 

_Oh my god, this is amazing_. Peter turned back to the first bot, hands ghosting over the machine. He’d had his own Dum-E, sort of, made out of Knex and an old RC Car motor Uncle Ben had helped him fashion, though it had only been as tall as a small table lamp. Peter smiled a little, remembering how obsessed he and Ned were with Iron Man after Tony Stark came back from Afghanistan, how they had gotten the action figures and the playing cards and those cheap plastic faceplates for when they played out at recess. 

 

It had annoyed his mother to no end---she’d never seemed to care for Tony Stark very much, but even she had smiled a little at his bot recreation; told him how smart he was and stared at him with her hand in his hair for a long while, as if her mind was somewhere else. 

 

God, if he could tell his 9-year-old self where he was now, the kid would absolutely freak out.

 

“You with me, Pete?” Tony’s voice pulled him from his memories, and he jerked back, shaking his head to clear it. He smiled bashfully.

 

“Um...sorry, Mr. Stark, I just...i’m kind of a fan.”

 

“I can see that,” Tony smirked. “When I decide to finally sell him for parts, you’ll be the first one I call.”

 

Dum-E sprang to life, swinging up and down, whirring erratically at his creator as the claw opened and closed.  Peter just stared on, completely horrified.

 

“It was a joke,” Tony chided the machine, scratching at it under where the claw spasmed. He walked closer to Peter,  patting him on the shoulder. “Shoptalk time. Sit.” He nodded at a swivel stool close to the bench, pulling another out from under an adjacent table to sit on as well. Peter followed suit, doing as he was told, shifting uncomfortably as Tony fixed him with a look.

 

“First things first,” Tony began, eyes scanning him. “How are you feeling? You still banged up from Friday?” He seemed serious, if not downright stoic. “I mean, I saw the videos of the crash site---”

 

Peter swallowed hard; he still wanted to forget about all that, as soon as he could. But he couldn’t show that to Mr. Stark. Sure, his side was still sore, but his accelerated healing had taken care of most of the really bad looking bruises and lacerations on his face. He smiled.

 

“I’m feeling really good, Mr. Stark.”

 

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure? Because you were in a plane crash.”

 

“Well,” Peter shrugged with a grin. “I mean, you know I heal really fast. My side is a little sore, but I think my ribs have completely healed and...”

 

Tony sighed heavily through his nose. “You...think, your ribs have healed?”

 

“I **know** , Mr. Stark,” Peter hurried to insist. “Definitely not broken or anything, it doesn’t even hurt to breathe anymore.”

 

Tony didn’t look satisfied and he eyed the hem of Peter’s shirt for a moment. For a mortifying moment, Peter thought Mr. Stark was going to have him lift it to be prodded like a child who couldn’t be trusted. But he didn’t say anything else and just shook his head with a tsk of his tongue, clearly still skeptical.

 

Which relieved Peter. And it wasn’t because his side still looked like a dulled watercolor painting; while this was by far the worst he’d ever gotten, Peter was sure that it wasn’t going to be the only time he got banged up and he wasn’t going to be able to do his job if Mr. Stark was going to smother him about it.

 

“Okay, fine. Next order of business,” Tony rose to his feet, walking over to a segmented surface, pressing down to reveal a keyboard that popped out, unfolding as Mr. Stark began to type away. Peter heard a hissing behind him and he spun on the chair to look, his mouth falling open.

 

It was the suit, from before; from when Mr. Stark had offered him the spot on the Avengers and the moment during the press conference. But the suit was different now, it wasn’t...solid; it was swirling around in a canister that rose from a hidden compartment, a bundle of...

 

“This,” Peter gasped, pushing up to stand on one foot, hand still steadying himself on the stool behind him. “This is nanotech.”

 

“You’re pitching a perfect game,” Tony said, sounding pleased. “Technically, it’s Bleeding Edge tech, comprised of nanites. And it’s much more resilient than the first suit I gave you.”

 

Peter spun around, mouth dropping further. “Wait, that’s mine?! Even though I said no to the Avengers?”

 

Tony nodded. “I’m giving you back the other suit, for when you’re doing some of your more basic, helping little old ladies across the street thing, but if you anticipate it’s gonna get hairier than that, I want this at your disposal.”

 

“But…” Peter trailed, his mind scrambling. “But why? Mr. Stark,” He scoffed, hardly able to believe any of this was actually happening. “This is...this is millions of dollars worth of tech and I’m not even---”

 

“You’re Spiderman,” Tony insisted firmly. “And I kind of...got you more into this. You crashed my goddamn plane to keep my stuff from getting stolen, the least I can---” Tony held his hands up, stopping himself. “You’re Spiderman. And even if you don’t want to be on the team now, you may want to later. And you’re going to be working, at least locally, and you need the right equipment to keep you safe while you do it.”

 

Peter wasn’t sure what to say, so he just nodded. “Ooo...Okay. Yeah, I...this is just...a lot, Mr. Stark.”

Tony nodded but kept explaining. “My current suit is similar. The external layer will essentially be a metal alloy.” His brows raised. “Which means you’ll be safe from, oh I don't know, major collisions, _fire_ , bullets, all of the above,” His brow raised. “So should you find yourself in another plane crash…”

 

Peter flushed. “Got it. Think I’m gonna try and avoid that though from now on, sir.”

 

“I’m happy to hear that, Peter.” He typed a little bit more on the keyboard and the suit sunk back down into the surface of the workbench, disappearing from sight. Peter turned back to the billionaire expectantly; it was surely too early for dinner and they had a few more hours until he had to go back home. 

 

“Both your suits will be configured with your AI,” Tony continued to explain, wiping his hands on his shirt sleeves. “The training wheels protocol has been disabled by default _but_ ,” He said sharply, holding up a finger. “But, you will have the option of enabling it if you need assistance. The monitoring protocol, however, _is_ still enabled. You can ask her not to record something if you feel you need to but if it’s a life-threatening situation where you need help, she’s configured to override it. If I find out you or your _friend_ tamper with it, there will be consequences.”

 

Peter flushed. Not completely unreasonable; while it felt a little overbearing, this was a billionaire superhero giving him two suits for free that were going to make his life way easier and so he just nodded and swallowed hard. “Mr. Stark, not that I don’t really appreciate all of this but…”

 

Tony raised an eyebrow.

 

“Why are you doing this for me?”

 

Tony looked at him hard for a second, searching his face, as if weighing his words and trying to decide exactly what to tell him. Then he relaxed a little with a sigh. And he shrugged.

 

“Kid. You saved me like. A billion dollars worth of technology. There was some stuff on that plane that was _literally_ irreplaceable. Including you.” Tony stood up straighter, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I think I've grown a little fond of you. And so...I want you to be safe, Peter. I don’t want to have to tell your Aunt some bad news, and I have the means, so---” He gestured with a hand, aimlessly. “Please, just. Let me help you out here.”

 

The squirmy feeling was back in Peter’s chest and he shifted from foot to foot, looking down at his hands. “Uhm. Tha...thanks, Mr. Stark. That’s...that’s really nice of you, and yeah. Yeah, of course. The suits are great. Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

 

Tony paused for a moment, then the grin was back. “Excellent. So, now that the mentor-mentee thing has passed, how’s about we get around to taking apart an engine of my Shelby over there and putting it back together? Should only take about an hour and then...pizza? Before Happy has to take you home?”

 

Peter relaxed, glad that Mr. Stark seemed to be hurrying right past the awkward, serious moment they were having. He was starting to expect this internship to be more amazing than he had first anticipated. He grinned.

 

“Pizza would be great, Mr. Stark.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no excuses. this hasn't been beta'd so please alert me to anything egregious. i just really wanted to get something updated and i struggled a bit with rewrites on this. thanks to everyone who is still reading!

The next few weeks went really well.

 

At least, that’s what Tony had thought. Peter came up every other Friday for the next 6 weekends and spent two days with him at the Compound. They’d spent a bunch of time in the lab, they’d worked out in the gym and mock sparred a little, then wound down the nights with dinner and movies. 

 

Peter was a normal teenager, by all accounts. He liked pizza and Chinese food and action movies and talking about science stuff. Tony noted their conversations were notably absent of friends or fun stuff outside of Peter’s patrols and schoolwork, but Tony knew their relationship was still burgeoning and it wasn’t all that common to share that type of stuff with someone who was essentially their boss.

 

But maybe, someday.

 

And then it stopped. 

 

Not altogether. But there was a Friday that came, and Peter wasn’t there, an hour after school had let out like he’d been all the other times. 

 

“I don’t know,” Happy had shrugged when Tony asked, as casually as he could muster, about the kid’s whereabouts. “He just texted that he had something with May and he couldn’t make it and that was it.”

 

Tony’s insides itched.  He looked down where his phone rested, fighting the urge to shoot Peter a text. It wasn’t like the kid had gone AWOL; when this had all begun, Tony had been adamant that Peter was to communicate directly with Happy, and he hadn’t really told the kid otherwise since the internship had been reinstated. He was kind of regretting that now.

 

What if May had spilled the beans? What if she’d told Peter, and he’d decided Tony wasn’t even worth being confronted over it?

 

Tony shook the thoughts away. He’d wait, he told himself. It could be anything; May could be sick, or her work schedule may have changed. If Peter didn’t come the next week he was due, then Tony would let himself get a little worried about all of it.

 

That was easier said than done. The concern hung in the back of his mind, a constant slight distraction during his day to day work that only alleviated itself when he received an email Wednesday from Peter in his personal inbox. 

 

Tony stared at it, mouth twisting in a bemused grin.

 

**Regarding my unexpected absence earlier this week**

 

Tony rolled his eyes but clicked on the email anyway.

 

Inside was a brief, two-paragraph explanation similar to what Happy had relayed, with a promise of explaining further when he returned to the Compound. That was followed up, much to Tony’s relief, with a request that it be this weekend, and the weekend after, to make up for his absence if “it wasn’t too much of an imposition.”

 

Tony rolled his eyes again and sighed. He figured this had something to do with the fact that the internship was much more formal this time, something that Peter was planning on submitting for course credits, and so he typed back a quick one-sentence reply saying it was fine and he was forgiven and that he would see the kid Friday afternoon.

 

When Friday afternoon rolled around, Tony found Peter already in his lab when he entered it a little after 4. He raised his brow at the boy, already bent over the workstation bench, fiddling with a capacitor he’d been working with the last time he was there and Tony waited a few quiet moments to see if Peter was going to notice him standing there. When he didn't look up, Tony cleared his throat loudly and Peter jumped in place, looking back with wide eyes.

 

“Oh, jeez, Mr. Stark, you scared the crap out of me,” He grabbed at his chest, closing his eyes.

 

“Thought you had some kind of special sense for when someone was coming up behind you?”

 

Peter shook his head, still breathing deeply. “It only really works if I’m in danger.” He grinned a little. “Guess you’re not a threat to me, Mr. Stark.”

 

“Noted.” Tony nodded. “What you got there?”

 

“Just getting everything we need for the circuit board work you wanted me to do last week. Figured we could get started on that and maybe get it into that bot from last week.”

 

“Sounds like a good plan.” Tony hummed. “Say, everything okay with May?”

 

Peter flushed. “Um...yeah. Yeah, she’s...she’s okay.” He put the capacitor on the bench, sitting back on a stool close to him. “I am really sorry about not letting you know sooner. I thought to just tell Happy would be okay, but Aunt May told me I really should take this opportunity seriously and treat it like a more professional thing, so that’s why I sent the email, I hope that’s okay---”

 

Tony held up a hand. “Whoa, hey, it’s fine, it’s cool. I just wanted to make sure, but we can talk more about it later if you’d rather.”

 

Peter nodded. “For sure. I just really want to get this done tonight so we can work on the bot tomorrow.”

 

“Sounds like a plan to me.”  


They work for a few hours, troubleshooting the circuit board and making sure it wasn’t going to fry within the first few uses. Satisfied, they decided to order some takeout and once it arrived, settled in the dining area to enjoy.

 

“So.” Tony began, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. “How is May? Is everything okay with her? She’s not sick or anything, is she?”

 

Something dark filtered over Peter’s face and Tony’s stomach twisted with concern. The boy looked down at his hands, mouth pressed into a straight line. 

 

“Um, yeah it’s fine. It’s nothing like, life-threatening or anything, it’s just…” Peter picked at his food with his fork, not actually taking a bite. “Last Saturday was my Uncle Ben’s birthday. It was the first one since…” Peter trailed off. “I didn’t want to leave May alone.”

 

Any sort of residual paranoia Tony was courting crumbled, dissipating into a relief that made him feel a bit guilty. “Ah, jeez, kid, I'm sorry,” Tony offered, setting down this fork. “Is she okay?”

 

Peter shrugged. “I mean...not really? She spent most of Saturday in her room, but I got her out for dinner and we went and walked around a park near our apartment on Sunday. Went and saw him at the Cemetery.” He shook his head. 

 

“And are _you_ okay, Peter?”

 

Peter looked up at him, seeming surprised. The teenager was quiet for a few moments, clearly considering how to respond, then sighed deeply, looking back down at his food. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I really just miss him a lot, Mr. Stark. I’m sorry. I should have called.”

 

“It’s alright that you didn’t,” Tony resisted the urge to reach out and touch him on the shoulder. “The internship is important, but just don’t make it a habit. I was worried. "

 

“I promise, if something like this happens again, I’ll call.”

 

“I know you will.” Tony peered over at him. The whole week had been concerning. Not just that Peter was maybe getting bored of him or was mad at him, or that something was really wrong with May. He didn't want Peter thinking this was just about missing work. He wanted Peter to know he cared about more than that.

 

He also found himself desperately wanting to know more about the kid's past. He liked working in the lab with the boy and watching television, but he didn’t really feel like he knew anything more about Peter than he had before. He cleared his throat.

 

“So your Uncle...how long had you been with them when he passed?” Tony asked. “If it’s alright to ask.”

 

Peter stiffened at the question, food in his mouth. His eyes went kind of wide and he shrugged before swallowing. “Um. I mean...basically for my whole life? My mom and I, we uhm...well, she worked a lot, and Aunt May was her sister, so it was kind of...just what we did. I’ve lived in the same building my whole life.”

 

Tony, of course, already knew all of this and then some, but he hummed and nodded like it was the most interesting thing in the world. It was different, hearing it from Peter; everything was as if having Peter choose to share details of his life added to the experience of learning about it.

 

Tony found himself wanting more and more to know all of it. The thought of Maya made Tony’s heart beat fast. He needed to be careful, knowing Peter would pick up on it and maybe wonder.

 

“What, um...what’d your mom do?”

 

“She was a scientist.” At that, Peter grinned and held up his hands. “I know, right? A big surprise considering.  Genetics. She was really great at it too.”

 

_This is an opportunity_ , the thought came. _You could tell him now, that you knew Maya, that you had known her before Peter was born, this could be it…_

 

But he didn’t know how to say it. The words stuck in his throat and he felt almost strangled like he was seconds away from gasping for air. He cleared it as subtly as possible and his nerves got the better of him, and he decided to hold off for now---at the very least, he had promised May he'd give her a warning about it. 

 

“May mentioned that she and your Uncle adopted you when she...passed away.” Tony winced. “I was sorry to hear about that too, kid. You’ve had a rough kind of go. She mentioned she wasn’t really around that much, huh?”

 

“She was a good mom,” Peter said, almost defensive. “I just...I know I wasn’t expected, you know?” He looked up at Tony with an almost smile on his face. “Her surprise, she used to tell me I was her best surprise.” He rubbed at his neck. “Her work was just really important to her. But at least she was around some, she made sure we were taken care of, and I had Aunt May and Uncle Ben. More than I can say for whoever my dad was, cause he sure didn’t care at all.”

 

Tony crossed his arms stiffly and went ramrod straight. He kept his mouth shut because he had poor impulse control and he knew this wasn’t exactly how he would want to tell this kid the truth, but he wanted to say something because he wanted to know. The uncomfortable silence grew. 

 

“That was weird,” Peter finally said, laughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put all that, orphan sad sack stuff on you, I just got…”

 

“Is that what she told you?” Tony asked softly. “That your dad didn’t care?”

 

He couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t even truly all that conscious of himself enough of the time _to_ help himself. The words just spilled out, and although they were far from an admission, Peter looked surprised at the intimacy of the question and at the tender way it was asked. His face turned pink, darkening red as the flush disappeared under the collar of his shirt and he shrugged, looking away. 

 

“I mean, I dunno. I never really asked. He sure wasn’t around, so I’d have to assume, but I don’t know that she even told him about me.” He shrugged. “I dunno. It doesn’t really matter much. I had Ben, and May, and my mom. I’ve had it pretty good.”

 

The feeling in Tony’s chest got tighter. He’d expected it to be the case, but hearing Peter’s low opinion of whoever he thought his father was made his stomach sink. Any thought of doing this now was gone; Tony couldn’t tell him now, or at least he didn’t want to. He could only imagine the boy’s reaction, the disdain or disgust, the outright rejection that would surely follow. 

 

As angry as Tony may have been at Maya, thinking back to who he was in 2000, she was probably _right_. He would’ve probably thrown a bunch of money at her along with a thinly veiled suggestion to _make it go away_ , but he would’ve had enough hubris, _at least,_ to want to be around the kid. His curiosity alone would have needed to know about him to be satisfied, and then he would have at least gotten to know him, and Tony found himself getting more and more angry at her because Maya had taken that away from him. 

 

“...Mr. Stark? Are you okay?” Peter asked quietly. “I didn’t mean to make this weird or bother you with it…”

 

“Didn’t upset me, kid, it’s no big deal just...thinking about stuff.” Tony forced a grin, wanting to put the kid more at ease. “Whatever happened, it was his loss. You’re a pretty good kid.”

 

Peter blushed. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

 

Tony decided it was time for a subject change. He steered the conversation back towards the projects he had been thinking of starting and Peter brightened, relaxing and chatting more, the more somber conversation clearly behind them. They carried on that way through dinner, before starting a movie and eventually heading to bed. 

 

At least Peter did.

 

Tony returned to the lab. 

 

Throughout his life, he’d found working through stuff in his lab helped with when he couldn’t really work through emotional stuff all that well. Rhodey told him it was an unhealthy habit, but in Tony’s opinion, he figured marginally dealing with some of his issues was better than never dealing with them at all.

 

He tried to distract himself, but it didn’t really work. It kept nagging at him; first, the idea that he had had a pretty great opportunity to be straight with the kid and he’d chickened out. He’d ultimately chickened out, came the follow-up thought, because it kind of sounded like Peter didn't think very much of whoever his father was and it definitely made Tony think that their conversation wasn't really the right time to drop that particular bomb. The problem _then_ presented itself that there was a part of Tony that was becoming more and more insistent, a part that had been only marginally intrigued when May had come by his office weeks ago but was now incessant.

 

Tony wanted to be that person to Peter, but it terrified him. In so many more ways than one, and their talk hadn’t really made it any better. He'd found, over the past few weeks, the more time he spent with Peter, he found himself wondering how the kid had developed his sense of humor; why he liked his sandwiches smushed all the way down or why he loved cucumbers but couldn't stand pickles. All these little things that he had missed, causing this need to _know_ Peter to grow. 

 

When he realized that no amount of tinkering in the lab was going to solve this, he decided to go the old-fashioned route---a glass of scotch and a mild sedative, something that would only keep him out for four or five hours. Usually, he was more than okay to exhaust himself to collapse, but Peter was actually here, until Sunday morning when Happy would take him back and Tony wanted to make the most of it.

 

It shouldn't scare him so much, he found himself thinking as he lay in bed, waiting to doze off. Babies & toddlers, those were the scary kids. He thought about how someone had described them once---like little drunk people that were constantly trying to kill themselves and you had to manage to stay one step ahead of it. Babies cried all the time because they couldn’t tell you what they wanted and they deprived you of sleep, which Tony was perfectly capable of doing to himself. Teenagers, he was sure they had their issues, but at least he could trust that Peter (probably) wasn’t going to light himself on fire or something. He wasn’t going to have to deal with any of that gross, dirty, exhausting stuff that usually comes with being a new parent; this part, this should be easy. Even if he was charitable and let himself believe Peter would be okay with him even being his father, he should have been relieved that he had missed all that messy stuff, but he hadn’t expected...

 

He hadn’t expected it to make him so goddamn sad. 

 

* * *

 

Peter always enjoyed his weekends at the Compound. Between everything he was learning from the science perspective, plus just getting to hang out with Mr. Stark, sometimes he literally pinched himself and wondered how he’d gotten lucky enough to be in this position.

 

He was happy to be home, though. Peter had fallen asleep Friday night completely mortified at the way he’d poured his guts out over dinner. Mr. Stark had looked at him almost like he was pained and Peter could only imagine how uncomfortable he’d made the man, having his teenage intern talk about his dead uncle and mom and an absentee father. 

 

Thankfully, Mr. Stark hadn’t seemed to hold it against him. He hadn’t mentioned it again, hadn’t treated Peter differently or distant the next morning. They’d sparred a little and worked on his suit some; Mr. Stark had even shown him how to operate some of the simulation build models and mentioned something about maybe letter Peter create his own suit one day and that had been pretty much the coolest part of the weekend. 

 

Peter was just grateful that Mr. Stark genuinely didn’t seem to know about his mom.

 

Peter didn’t want any special treatment. A second chance at the internship had been enough, and Mr. Stark seemed impressed after everything that had happened with Toomes, the last thing he needed was for something else to get in the way of this. 

 

Maybe Mr. Stark didn’t even remember Maya; after all, how many of those situations had he been in? People died all the time, there were always people to save; the name would probably mean next to nothing to someone like Iron Man.

 

But.

 

It meant something to Peter. 

 

He didn’t think about his mom as often as he probably should have. Mostly because it just made him sad. It was in the middle of the night, when he couldn’t sleep, that he would miss her the most. She used to sit at his bedside and read children's books to him when he couldn’t sleep when he was younger; about space and science and animals. Her voice was low and even, soothing in a way that never failed to lull him asleep before the book was done, but he could always remember her hand carding a way through his hair just as he drifted off, a gentle kiss pressed to his head.

 

He missed her a lot when he let himself.

 

Uncle Ben’s death had brought a lot of that back, but like with his mom, he’d had to think about Aunt May. She had done so much when his mom had died, but this had been May’s husband.

 

And it had been Peter’s fault.

 

Objectively, he knew, that it wasn’t; objectively, he knew it was the fault of the man with the gun and that Uncle Ben had made his own decision to stand up to the man, but Peter had been there. Peter had had secret powers. And Peter hadn’t been able to save him.

 

And so Peter had set to doing whatever he could when May needed him, in the next couple months, while learning how to be Spiderman, all while trying not to think of his mom, of his problems, and trying to focus on his Aunt instead. 

 

May was out when Happy dropped him back off at their Queen’s apartment. He made himself something to eat, put on a movie he liked that was playing on TBS. He thought about the box that he knew was tucked in the back of May’s closet, the one he hadn’t looked at in at least a year, the one of all his mom’s really personal stuff. Her pictures, and her work notebooks and awards; a shawl that smelled like her.

 

He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling about it. The last time he’d opened it had just been to retrieve the shawl. Shortly after Ben had passed, he’d slept with it for a week, hoping May wouldn’t notice. He’d hardly gone digging, though, in her things. It had felt like an intrusion.

 

But now. When he dragged himself into May’s closet as the credits rolled, he just found himself wanting to be close to her. The talk with Mr. Stark had stirred all of those dormant thoughts and he wondered if it was a symptom of being a little older and being more familiar with the science side that had changed that for him.

 

The box was where he’d left it, tucked in a back corner behind May’s clothes. He carried it out of her room and into his own, sitting down on his bed before flipping the latch. A soft smile formed on his face. 

 

The shawl was there, folded up in the corner but on top of it were a few photos, aged ones of Aunt May and Maya from when they were children---maybe it hadn’t been as untouched as he expected; he’d never seen these before. May must have been in the box since the last time he’d gotten to it.

 

Peter lifted the shawl to his face and breathed in deeply. A sense of fond sadness washed over him, some weird mix of longing and grief and joy and love. Just like he’d told Mr. Stark, she had been a good mom---but she also had been gone a lot and sometimes, times Peter wasn’t very proud of, sometimes Peter got angry that she prioritized her work over their family. Sometimes, he got so mad he wondered if she hadn’t, maybe she’d still be alive. 

 

It always left him feeling bad. 

 

He let the shawl fall into his lap and he began to dig through the box. There was all kinds of stuff---drawings of his she’d kept, photos of them when he was younger, old theater programs and a few medals and certificates, and at the very bottom of the box, three blue, leather-bound journals that seemed well worn.

 

Peter had looked through only one of them once, shortly after she’d died. He’d thought it might be filled with more personal stuff, a way to get to know her better after she was gone, but he was disappointed to find only work notes and equations and calculations he couldn’t possibly understand. He hadn’t looked again. 

 

Now it was different. It had been a couple of years. He was in high school, he had his own genetics and biology and all sorts of other classes. After the spider-bite, he’d done a little bit more research and he wondered now if the things that had seemed confusing would make sense. Peter pulled out all three journals, setting the one he’d looked at before to the side and opening the second one.

 

It was full of sketches. Plants mostly, with notes in the margins. He flipped through the pages, finding more of the same before he came across something not bound within the journal and he frowned, sliding a folded up piece of white paper from between a page with a bunch of question marks next to another one of his mother’s sketches. 

 

He opened it up and noticed that whatever this was, it was clearly a photocopy of...some kind of event name badge. Peter frowned and looked closer, trying to see through the hazy quality.

 

**_You know who I am_ **

 

The scrawl was familiar but he couldn’t place it. Below it was a formula, apparently copied too, maybe from the back of the badge; something that looked kind of like her notes and he wondered if it had anything to do with her work.

 

He lazily flipped through a few more pages and as he tilted the journal to read it, a piece of paper slid from between some pages in the back and onto the floor. Peter picked it up, taking a look, and figured it was some kind of magazine clipping given its glossy texture. He unfolded it and let his eyes skim over what looked to be a collage of photos from some kind of party, captions to the side of every photo.

 

Peter began to feel far away when he spied a familiar face. There was his mom, in the top right corner, a horn between her fingers. She looked beautiful; far more done up than he’d ever seen her. A party hat on her head, and a slinky black dress, and a smile so bright and happy looking, Peter smiled for a second, until he registered the other person in the clipping.

 

There was a man next to her. He had a devilish grin on his face, slicked-back hair and sunglasses on, clearly intoxicated and an arm wrapped around his mother’s waist, pulling her close. 

 

An arm that belonged...

 

to Tony Stark.

 

* * *

 

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i liiiiiiiive

Peter kept the magazine clipping in the nightstand by his bed.

 

He’d stared at the page for far too long, a mess of thoughts racing through his head. He spent the week of that Sunday sparing glances at the magazine clipping, staring at his mom, at Mr. Stark, at the way Mr. Stark was standing with her…

 

Peter made a face at the thought. It was clear now that whatever had happened in Miami, it had not been the first time Mr. Stark had met his mother. A little bit of research and reading of the captions on the photo revealed the event was some kind of biotech conference, so it was work, definitely work.

 

Though...whatever they were doing in the photo, it wasn’t work-related and Peter had heard enough about who Mr. Stark used to be and his stomach roiled.

 

Did Mr. Stark know, was his first question. Had Mr. Stark known, all this time, that Peter Parker was Peter Hansen originally, that Peter Hansen’s mom had been Maya? Did he know that Peter had been orphaned and left with his Aunt and Uncle to raise him when she’d died in Miami?

 

And if he did, if that was the case, then all of this...was what? Some kind of guilt response? Some kind of of...of charity? Had Peter not impressed Mr. Stark all by himself, was he even smart enough to have this internship, or should it have gone to someone else, someone more deserving and better, someone who would really be able to change the world?

 

It wasn’t even until a couple of days before he would head back to the Compound did another consideration hit him, out of the blue and in the middle of Bio, something so terrible that he scrambled up and out of his seat without a word to his teacher, reaching the bathroom just in time to retch in one of the bathroom stalls.

 

It had been a _new years eve party_ , he had been thinking idly. His mom had been dressed in a 2000’s party hat and a noisemaker between her lips, Mr. Stark had clearly been leading her somewhere, and it struck him like lightning, coming into focus and hitting him like a freight train.

 

Peter had been early.

 

He’d been an early baby. He’d spent three weeks in a NICU at Queens Memorial, he’d had asthma and allergies his entire life before the bite, ailments that stemmed from lungs that hadn’t quite been ready for the world. He wiped at his mouth, staring at the ceiling of the boy's bathroom, trying to grapple for another reason---

 

When Peter was a kid, a _younger_ kid, he and Ned would make up stories about whoever his dad was. Kids were mean, they said mean things, they picked things that people were sensitive about, and when that would happen, Ned would start the game. He’d say an occupation or a famous person and Peter would begrudgingly play along and eventually they’d be laughing and it would be okay, Peter would be a little less upset about the teasing.

 

Astronaut had been a favorite. Astronaut, or international spy, or a brilliant scientist that was doing life-saving research across the globe. 

 

“Dude, dude, _dude_ …” Ned had said finally, one day when they were around 10. “What about Tony Stark?”

 

Peter had frowned. They were out on a jungle gym, Ned sitting up on the top of one of those climber domes while Peter hung from his knees on the inside. He peered up at his friend, shielding his eyes from the sun.

 

“What about Tony Stark?”

 

“What if Tony Stark is your dad?” There was a touch of awe to Ned’s voice as he stared off into the distance as if just imagining it. “I mean, how cool would that be? Iron Man could be your _dad_.”

 

And Peter had grinned. “Dude, that would be _so_ cool. You think he would let me go flying with him in the suit?”

 

Ned scoffed. “Not _in_ the suit but…” His eyes had gone wide. “Dude maybe he’d make you your own suit so you could go flying with him! Imagine all the cool stuff you’d get to see. AND you’d be rich.” He’d shaken his head. “So cool.”

 

Peter hummed an agreement. And then Ned had said someone else, and another scenario had been dreamt up, and then another until the bell for recess had called them back inside. 

 

Tears burned at the corners of Peter’s eyes and he didn’t think it was from throwing up. He sat back against the bathroom stall, hand over his face when he heard the bathroom door open and footsteps approach.

 

“Peter?” Ned’s voice echoed off the walls. “Peter, hey, are you in here?”

 

“I’m here, Ned.”

 

“Dude, are you okay? Mrs. Freeman is freaking out, you didn’t even…”

 

“I got sick, Ned. I didn’t want to throw up in class.”

 

“I think I speak for everyone when I say thanks for that.”

 

Peter closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. “I’m fine Ned, I think it’s just something I ate.”

 

“Something you ate?” Ned’s voice pitched. “Dude we ate the same thing! Oh god, I’m not gonna get sick, am I? Man, I hate throwing up, it’s the worst, I just---”

 

“Ned, can you not? Please?” Peter ground out. “Just...tell Mrs. Freeman I'm sorry and I’ll be back in a second? I need...I just want to make sure I'm gonna be okay.”

 

He could see Ned shift his weight from one foot to the other under the stall door. “I can wait with you, if you want, she wasn’t mad or anything----”

 

“No, I'm good. I just...I just need a minute, I'll be back in a second.”

 

“Oookay,” Though Ned didn’t sound convinced. “If you’re not back in 15 I’m coming back with the school nurse.”

 

Peter rolled his eyes and smiled a little. “Alright, Ned, I got it. Go.”

 

He waited until Ned shuffled out and the door closed behind him. Peter pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, grateful for the interruption. His heart had stopped racing and the tears were no longer there, but his stomach was empty and it felt more hollow than ever before.

 

Was Mr. Stark...could Mr. Stark be…?

 

Bile burned the back of his throat but he swallowed it down. He had a couple of days to go before he could find out for certain. For now, he settled back down, his head resting against the wall of the stall, breathing in, and breathing out. He needed to calm down. He needed to wait and talk to Mr. Stark and he needed to not jump to a conclusion about what was or wasn’t true and then deal with it from there. And what he really needed to do was not think about the fact that...

 

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to be true.

 

* * *

 

Tony wasn’t in the lab when Peter found him that Friday.

 

Tony was generally never in the lab when Peter got to the Compound. It was kind of a personal rule of his, he wanted the kid to kind of figure out what he wanted to work on for the weekend and get started, and then Tony would join him and they couldtake off from there. Tony wanted Peter to get the most out of these weekends, he didn’t want to be the one driving that bus, so it surprised him when he stopped by the rec area on the second floor of the compound and found Peter sitting on one of the couches, jacket still on and his backpack sitting on the ground. 

 

He looked terrible. 

 

Tony frowned as he poured a cup of coffee. “Hey, kid. Didn’t expect to find you down here, figured you’d be down in the lab already. You okay?”

 

Peter’s head rose and stared back in silence, a tired look on his face. He didn’t answer but instead, bent over to dig around in his backpack, pulling out some kind of sheet of paper. Tony continued to watch, growing more confused as Peter made his way over to him and finally, laid the object down in front of him without so much as a word.

 

Tony didn’t even get a warning.

 

His heart felt like it seized a little as he took in the images. A variety of celebrities at different events, but it didn’t take long to find the one Peter was worried about. An old photo from an old-time, when Tony was a different man, the type who took different women to bed every night and didn’t think about the possible repercussions of his actions.

 

He swallowed. He set his coffee down an arm's length away and then smoothed the magazine page with his hand, not daring to look up at Peter though he knew the boy’s eyes were watching him steadily. He sighed.

 

“God, my hair. I looked like such a douchebag with those sideburns.” Biting the bullet, he finally looked up to take the kid in, finding Peter watching him with a pained expression.

 

Momma didn’t raise no fool.

 

“You have questions.”

 

“You know who that is then?”

 

Tony cleared his throat. “Maya Hansen, a pre-eminent geneticist in her field. Though at this juncture, she wasn’t quite there yet. Just...a researcher, trying to get some funding.”

 

Peter’s expression darkened. “Was that what this was about?”

 

Well, fuck. “Oh, Pete, no. No, I just meant…”

 

“Do you know who she is to me?”

 

Tony wasn’t sure he could take it. He wasn’t ready for this, not right now, not when Peter’s eyes were rimmed red and he could see the kid's chest rising and falling quicker and quicker, and he wasn't prepared. This wasn’t how he’d thought this would happen, this isn’t how he'd _wanted_ it to happen, but it didn’t seem like Tony was going to get much of a choice.

 

“Kid…”

 

“Answer me.”

 

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “May visited me after the whole ferry thing. She told me that Maya was her sister and…” He tripped over his words, choking them out. “Your Mom. I didn’t know before that.”

 

“So you knew. All last week, when I was spilling my guts,” Peter sputtered, his voice rising. “You knew? The whole time?”

 

“Peter, I didn’t know how to say it----”

 

“You say, Peter, I knew your mom! That’s how you say it. Peter, I knew your mom. Of course, _I knew_ you knew my mom, somehow, because you were there, weren’t you? When Killian shot her? You were there and you didn’t do anything!”

 

Tony flinched back, not expecting that to be a part of this. It seemed to surprise Peter too because the boy’s face opened up in shock before it settled again in anger. His hands balled into fists at his side.

 

“Well?!”

 

“I was tied to a bed, Pete,” Tony said softly. “I couldn’t do anything because I didn’t have a suit. I would have stopped him if I could have, I promise. I would have saved her if I could have.”

 

“That’s not…” Peter responded weakly. “That’s not…I didn’t mean to say it like that. I know you would have helped her if you could have but…” The boy's shoulders slumped. “Why didn’t you just tell me?"

 

Tony stared at the boy. He had planned on having something prepared for this. He’d even sent May a note last weekend telling her they needed to tell him soon, but this wasn’t...part of the plan. He unfolded his arms and lifted them in a sort of helpless gesture. “I didn’t want you to think that’s all that the internship was about. I didn’t want you to think you were only here because of special treatment.”

 

“Was I?”

 

“Not entirely."

 

Peter’s shoulders slumped. It was clearly not what the kid wanted to hear, and Tony’s insides twisted up tighter knowing this was about to probably get a lot worse before it got better. 

 

“Peter, I was upset about the Ferry thing, and I was planning on coming to you about another internship eventually but then May stopped by. And then you saved the move upstate, and I thought, I was wrong. I was wrong, you were ready, you just made a mistake, I was the one who was too rough on you. So when I say not entirely, I mean that. I really do.”

 

Peter gave him a skeptical look. “So. I’m not just here cause you felt guilty about something?”

 

“Absolutely not."

 

Peter nodded, still not looking completely convinced. “And…” he took a deep breath and paused, eyes staring at the ground, looking as if he were trying to figure out what to say. “And that’s all then? There’s nothing else?”

 

Dread. It permeated every ounce of Tony’s being because there was something in the way Peter asked it. It wasn’t a naked question; there was an underlying insinuation in it, that Tony was keeping something else from him, and he _was_. Peter’s eyes narrowed and he was leaning against the kitchen counter on an outstretched arm as if bracing himself for the truth. And Tony wasn’t going to lie to him in the face of an outright question, not anymore.

 

“There...yes. There is. There is something else May told me.” He paused. “Something about you. And me.”

 

Peter didn’t react, not immediately. His expression stayed completely blank, he didn’t even seem confused though his chest began to rise and fall, deeper and deeper until…

 

His face crumbled, along with any hope Tony had that this was going to go well.

 

“Since September? You’ve known since the ferry?” Peter’s voice was jagged. “And you just... didn't think I deserved to know that?”

 

“Pete, let’s make sure…”

 

“I’m your son, right? That’s what this is, I’m your kid?” He frowned. “I can do basic math and I'm not an idiot when it comes to human biology.”

 

Tony flushed red. “Yes. Yes, you are...my son.”

 

It came out strangled and Peter rolled his eyes. “You sound like you’d rather be chewing glass.”

 

“Peter, that’s not how this is,” Tony insisted, suddenly breathless and desperate. “If I could just have a few minutes to explain…”

 

“You had like two months to explain.” 

 

“I know. I know! Peter, it just felt...complicated.”

 

Peter’s brow furrowed. “I mean, yeah but…” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What, you didn’t think I could handle it? Or understand?” His expression darkened. “Or were you just trying to figure out more ways to lie to me?”

 

In every scenario Tony had run, he couldn’t have imagined this going more poorly. He reached out a hand to grab onto Peter’s. “That’s not it, I promise, I just wanted to make sure…”

 

Peter pulled back, flinching away from him with a hooded look. “I shouldn’t have come, I just should have called. This is...too weird. It’s weird. I need to...I need to go…”

 

“Peter, _wait_ …”

 

“I’ll...I'll call you later, I will, but I just need some time with this, Mr. Stark.” Peter hurried over to the couch, grabbing his pack up off the floor and avoided his father’s gaze. “I thought I could talk this over but I just need to think a little. I want to talk to May. But...I'll call you. I will.”  


Tony watched, completely at a loss as the boy turned and fled from the room, and it wasn’t hard to catch how insincere his promise sounded. To be fair, the rational part of Tony’s brain pointed out, this was completely reasonable; Peter wasn’t _wrong_. Tony had weeks to adjust to this, expecting Peter to be okay right away was unfair. 

 

“FRI, bring up the entryway feed please.”

 

A hologram sprang to life in midair. He watched as Peter pushed through the front doors of the compound, out to where Happy was still cleaning off the car he’d brought the kid up with. Happy looked surprised as the kid hopped into the back seat, slamming the door behind him. Happy tossed the rag to the stairs, shuffling over to the window, leaning down to talk to him.

 

“FRI, amplify.”

 

“...reason you’re in my car? You’ve been in there for like 20 minutes.”

 

Peter’s response was clipped. “I wanna go home. Can you just take me home?”

 

Tony watched as Happy bent closer, folding his arms on the open window. ““Kid? What’s wrong, is everything alright? Is Tony---”

 

“Tony is fine,” Peter snapped. “Please, just take me home. I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“That’s enough, FRI, thank you.” Tony said with a sigh, rubbing at his forehead. The projection broke apart, fading away in midair. He stared at his phone on the counter and then he decided he  could stand there and worry or he could do what he always did when something was bothering him.

 

“FRI,” He began, pocketing the phone and working at the buttons of his sleeves, rolling them up. “Anyone asks, I’ll be in the lab. Lockdown, unless there’s an emergency.”

 

“If you insist, Boss.”

 

He frowned up at the ceiling as he made his way downstairs. Tony wasn’t sure that he had intended to program FRIDAY to sound so judgy but she sure could come across that way sometimes. 

 

He settled into the lab at his workstation, pulling up the latest stats on the nanite tech he’d been working on for his own suit. The iron spider suit hadn’t exactly been a prototype, but it was a little simpler than what he wanted for the Iron Man design and he was still working through some of those kinks before he would feel comfortable attaching it to his chest.

 

Distracting himself worked like a charm, as it always did, to the point that he didn’t even hear when his AI let him know that Happy Hogan had returned to the Compound and was requesting entrance to the lab.

 

Or. Maybe he had and was just ignoring her? Who was to say?

 

Regardless of his own wishes, it was a few minutes before the sharp hiss of pressurized air releasing sounded throughout the room, resulting in an open door that his driver walked through, a frown on his face. 

 

Tony pushed the keyboard away from himself and looked up at the ceiling. “FRI, in the future, Happy’s inquisitive nature does not constitute an emergency. And remind me to revoke his emergency access codes altogether.” 

 

“Consider it done Boss,”

 

“I’ll just get Pepper to reinstate them,” Happy quipped. “So, I just took Peter all the way back home to Queens. After I just brought him all the way up here.”

 

“Is that not part of your job description?”

 

Happy’s frown deepened. “He seemed distinctly...not Peter like. Everything alright?”

 

Tony shrugged. “We had a bit of a disagreement. Nothing time won’t fix.”

 

“It’s an hour and a half back to Queen’s and he didn’t say a word, Tony. Usually I can't get the kid to shut up. You wanna teach me your ways on that?”

 

Sighing, Tony gave him a tired look. “Do you remember Maya Hansen? The geneticist from Miami, Sweden…”

 

“Kinda hard to forget considering she’s part of why I was in a coma for three weeks.”

 

Tony smiled sadly. “She was Peter’s mom.”

 

Happy was clearly not expecting that. His mouth dropped open, gaping at Tony. “Wha...how? I mean...when did you…”

 

“Right before the upstate move. The kid's aunt came to visit and let me know everything. This today,” Tony gestured in the space around him. “Peter found out that not only did I know about that but that she and I had been...previously acquainted, before Miami.” He picked at his fingers. “He feels like i’ve been lying to him. And I mean, he’s not really wrong. I should have said something sooner.”

 

“But...I mean, how did you not know already? Did it not come up on the background on him before Europe?”

 

“We didn’t really do one, it's not like I had a whole lot of time, Hap,” Tony explained. “And we really should have looked into Maya’s history after everything happened with Killian, but god, Happy. You were still in the hospital, Pepper was sick, I had...we just had other things going on.” He looked up at Happy from where he was sitting. “We would’ve helped him out, you know? We would’ve done something, I really would’ve made sure they were taken care of.”

 

“I know,” Happy replied softly. “But I mean...I get him being a little miffed you kept something from him but...kid seems to be overreacting a bit for a little white lie---”

 

“Hap, Peter’s 15.” Tony interjected sharply, giving his friend a meaningful look. “His birthday was in August. And he just found out that Maya and I...knew each other.”

 

“So?” Happy’s face screwed up in a frown. “Lots of people know each other through work, what makes that so special ...oh,” His face slackened. “Ohhhh.” Then it turned soft, the corners of his eyes dipping low. His voice got quiet. “Oh.”

 

“Yeah,” Tony's voice was thick and deep. He sniffed, looking away. “Oh.”

 

\--------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this hasn't been beta'd. some of it was harder to write than others but i really really want to make some progress, so i hope this update of our emotionally constipated faves has helped a little. don't worry, i'm not gonna drag out a resolution. thanks for reading still, everyone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally! it's here! and it's like...2x as long as the last one, to make up for the fact that it's been 2 months! i'm terrible!!! anyway, i hope you all enjoy :)

May had come to almost enjoy her weekends alone.

 

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Peter around, or that she preferred him away. She missed him a lot when they didn’t see each other as much because of demanding weekly schedules, but there was also something to be said for having a Friday night all to yourself before working two 12 hour shifts in a row.

 

Which was why, when the door to her apartment swung open at 8 on that Friday night, she was especially taken aback, already lounging by the television in her pajamas.

 

She sprang into a seated position, pulling the blanket with her. The apartment was dim, lit only by the television and a small table lamp to her right, and it took a few moments to recognize her nephew. When she did, she let out a half sigh and a relieved laugh, shaking her head. She pressed a flat hand to her chest. “Oh, honey, you scared me. I didn’t expect you home tonight, why aren’t you---”  
  


Peter stepped into the light, backpack on one shoulder, a crumpled paper in his hand. The words died in her throat as she took in his scowl, his red-rimmed eyes that looked…

 

Hurt. Angry. Betrayed.

 

Her stomach twisted. 

 

“Peter…” She began softly. “I don’t know what happened but---”

 

“Don’t you?” He held out whatever he had on his hand and let it drop onto the coffee table in front of her. May reached for it, smoothing out the creases. It was weathered, faded, but the source of his distress was unmistakable.

 

“Oh. Oh, Peter,” She looked up at him. “I’m…"

 

“How long have you known Mr. Stark was my father?”

 

May took a deep breath. She knew she could stall, or make excuses and this could be much worse. 

 

Or she could do what she should have from the beginning. 

 

She sighed. “Your mom told me after the wormhole. So only a few years.”

 

“But before Ben,” He said, a firm look on his face. “And after I met him. I’ve been hanging out with him for months, like _an idiot,_ and neither of you told me?!”

 

“Tony didn’t want to, not right away.” She immediately responded, then paused for a moment. “I...also, I mean...I didn’t press…”

 

“Because this was easier?”

 

She went stiff. She could say a lot of things, now; she could play this off as being concerned over who Tony was (which wasn’t completely untrue) or she could blame Maya (unfair considering she wasn’t there to defend herself), or…

 

She could be honest. Really honest, because right now, it’s what Peter deserved. “Because---” _I didn’t want to lose you, and I was scared, and---_ ”Maybe? I was afraid...of what you would want.”

 

Peter stared at her quietly. He looked down at the magazine clipping, then back at her, expression unchanged. He sighed. “What does that mean?”

 

“It means,” She shifted to turn towards him, pulling the blanket into her lap and hugging it to her chest. “It means that this is a 2 bedroom, 900 square foot apartment in Queens, not literally any mansion in the entire world with the most advanced nerdy science stuff your heart can desire.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “Ben had just died. I didn't...I didn't want to be alone.”

 

Peter didn’t answer and she couldn’t bring herself to look up at him to see if he was even angrier now. After a few tense moments, she felt the cushion next to her dip and registered him sliding a hand into her own. When she looked up, he was blurry.

 

“Aunt May,” He said softly, voice a little husky. “I’m not leaving you, not ever. I don’t care if we live under a bridge or in something the size of a closet. I never would.”

 

“You say that---”

 

“You’re my family. I’ve been with you my whole life, you’re like my second mom. I don’t care who Mr. Stark is or his money.” He looked down where their hands were clasped. “ _You’re_ my family.”

 

She placed her free hand over his, now sandwiched in her own. “Forever. We stick together. I’d never doubt you, not really. Irrational as it may seem, I couldn't help worrying, sweetheart." She gave him a little smile, moving her hand to lift up his chin with a curled finger. "Still remains that this is a big deal. But we can make an adjustment. It's understandable that this may change what we consider family to be."

 

Peter shook his head, pulling a little away. “I...no. It’s not the same.”

 

“Of course it’s not the _same_ ….”

 

“No, I mean…” He sighed, licking his lips. “You and I, like...I know I can rely on you. This feels unconditional but Mr. Stark, he just…” 

 

May’s expression hardened, turning into a scowl. “He just what?"

 

Peter's gaze snapped back to her. "Nothing! Aunt May, he didn't do anything, don't get mad…"

 

"Well, you're clearly upset. And I thought it was because of me but if he…"

 

"He didn't," Peter interjected, then dropped his chin towards his chest. "I mean, he didn't do _anything_. He didn't…say anything." He finished weakly, squeezing his eyes shut. "This whole time. It was like he was...seeing if I was good enough? I don't know…" He rubbed at his face. "I don't know."

 

May watched him sink deeper into his thoughts, trying to quell the urge to jump up and get in her car to go give Tony Stark a piece of her mind. A part of her---a very large part of her---wanted to pick up the phone and read him the riot act but she had the distinct impression that the issue here was what had not happened, not that Tony had been overtly cruel and that this was a result of Peter's own insecurities more than anything else.

 

"Did you...ask him why he didn't tell you?"

 

Peter shook his head. "I mean...kind of. But I was...I was mad." He flushed slightly. "I didn't really give him the chance to explain." His face twisted with indignation. "But he's known for months and he hasn't said anything and I don't know if there's a good enough reason for that."

 

"Well. I can see why you would feel that way." She paused. "Maybe he was scared too though?"

 

Peter huffed. "Of what?"

 

She shrugged. "I don't know kiddo. I know when I told him, he seemed pretty shell-shocked. It's a pretty big deal, finding out something like that. Maybe he wanted to know how he felt about it before he talked to you."

 

"That's what I mean, though. Like...it was an audition or something. Like...I was worthy of being his…" and he gestured with his hand, still uncomfortable with actually thinking it out loud.

 

"That may very well be the case," May forced her voice to stay steady. "And if it is, then he can go to hell because it is definitely the other way around."

 

"May---"

 

"You are more than worthy of being that to him, Peter. He's the luckiest guy in the world, and you can say I'm biased but you are such a great kid Peter. I know _I_ feel lucky. So if he doesn't he's dumb." She craned her head to peer at him, brushing back a curl that had fallen in front of his face. "And however I may feel about the guy, I don't know if dumb is how anyone would describe Tony Stark."

 

“You might be surprised,” Peter muttered then shook his head. “You’re probably right. I know it’s complicated. But I---” He glanced over at her hesitantly with a sniff. “I kind of wanted to know who he was my whole life you know? I guess I just thought...he would want that, too, if he knew about me. And now I don’t know.”

 

God, she was going to rip Tony Stark a new one when she saw him next. “Oh, honey…” She pulled him into her arms, pressing her face into his hair. “I’m sorry.”

 

Peter shrugged in her embrace. “It’s okay. Nothing ever really works out the way you think it will.”

 

“Sometimes, it ends up working out better,” She pulled back, smoothing his hair once more. “And if it doesn’t, well, then I’ll just beat him up for you. Sound like a plan?"

 

“I think you might be able to take him,” Peter joked with a small smile. “Aunt May?”

 

“Yeah, hon?”

 

“I wanted to ask...about Mom.” He shifted awkwardly in place, bringing a leg up into his lap. “I know there’s more to what happened with her and that Killian guy. And I know you haven’t told me because it’s probably not all that great but with this now,” he shrugged, licking his lips. “I’ve been thinking about her a lot the past couple weeks and I just...I want to know.” His mouth set in a line, expression serious. “I think I...deserve to know.”

 

May sighed deeply, back against the back of the couch. She stared at him for a quiet moment.

 

“I know there’s more to it,” Peter pressed. “Mr. Stark even looked all weird when I brought it up and I just...I want to know. I’m not some stupid kid who doesn’t understand that stuff.” His eyes narrowed, as if pained. “She was _my_ mom, May.”

 

“Peter…”

 

“Please.”

 

He wasn’t going to budge. Moreover, May realized, was that if she denied him this, it wasn’t going to do anything to help the secret she’d kept from him. And he wasn’t wrong; Peter was 15, and though still a child, clearly aware that there was more to what had happened with Maya and so she sighed. She pulled at the throw on her lap, shifting it to the side and patted his knee.

 

“Alright. Okay,” she smiled tightly. “I’m gonna make some tea if you’d like some. Get some sweet bread I bought earlier from that bakery down the street we like? It’s in the fridge. And then I’ll tell you what I know. Everything. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

Peter spent the next 10 or so days in a malformed haze, almost like a fog. 

 

The talk with May had ended in tears. Just...grief, seeping from both of them. 3 years wasn’t a long time, in the grandest scheme of things, and while it had been difficult to hear, Peter couldn’t help but notice May seemed...lighter; as if sharing the truth had helped her move on from it, helped her settle. 

 

The truth now a weight that could now be carried by more than one.

 

For Peter, it was a skeleton key of answers. There were so many questions he’d had in the wake of Miami and everything made much more sense, though he couldn’t escape an ache to know that the insatiable quest of seeing her life’s work through had inevitably destroyed her and so many others.

 

A cautionary tale, others may say; but for him, only a rueful ache.  He would wonder forever what her last moments and thoughts must have been; had she regretted her path? Had she been sorry at all?

 

One of the only people who may be able to answer that, Peter had thought more than once, was Tony Stark.

 

And yet. Everything that had happened at the Compound was still too tender. Peter looked down at his text log with a sigh.

 

Tony had messaged him once or twice, just to check if he was alright after the weekend and to see if he was coming by the following Friday. Peter had kept his responses very simple---one or two words, yes, no or fine. That he needed time. 

 

And Tony had left him to it.

 

Peter filled his nights with patrols. Swinging from rooftop to rooftop was a hell of a way to clear your head and as it was cutting close to November, the chill in the night made everything sharper.

 

He was grateful for the heater Tony had installed in the suit.

 

It was two weeks after Peter had confronted him at the Compound. It was closing in on 10 pm, around when Peter liked to be back at home. He knew May was at work until around midnight, and if he wasn’t at home and in bed for a little before that, she had a tendency to be a little more curious than was suitable for his extracurriculars.

 

There was a group of guys trying to boost an SUV in Elmhurst. It was, by all expectations, standard, but something went wrong. He hadn’t known about the two lookouts in the pickup around the corner and he’d found out too late when the truck had barrelled into him and sent him up over the roof and onto the street. The thugs had climbed in, yelling at their friends and peeling away, leaving Peter gasping on the ground, wincing beneath his mask.

 

Which was how Peter ended up with a grimace on a rooftop a few blocks away from his and May’s apartment, waiting for the pain to ease.

 

“Karen, give me a rundown.”

 

“You have broken four ribs on your left side,” She reported, her chipper tone at odds with the unpleasant situation. Peter sighed deeply and winced, letting his head fall back against the concrete wall he was seated against.

 

“Great.” He muttered. “Anything else? Do I need to get it checked out?”

 

“There does not appear to be any internal damage aside from contusions associated with the collision. The ribs have not perforated any internal organs.”

 

“Well, that’s good.” 

 

“Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark?”

 

It was a perfunctory, standard request, but Peter’s head snapped up in attention. “Uh, no! No don’t...no. It’ll be alright, I’ll just put some ice on it when I get home.”

 

“Alright,” The AI responded. “You have 30 minutes until curfew, Peter and an hour and a half until Aunt May returns from her shift at the hospital.”

 

Peter lifted a hand. “Alright, Karen, thank you.” He pulled his mask off. “I just need a few minutes.” He muttered to himself.

 

A few quiet minutes, it turned out though, which only left him alone with thoughts he’d been trying to outrun for two weeks.

 

He hated how this whole thing with Mr. Stark was playing out. His anger at the situation had subsided in the last few days, leaving behind a hollow feeling Peter now carried with him wherever he went. There was a part of him, a pretty decent sized part of him that wanted to say yes to Mr. Stark, about going back up to the Compound for the weekend, for things to go back to the way they were but then there was another part of him, another sense of self that quickly countered that things were never going to just go back to normal.

 

Mr. Stark was his father. And Peter wasn’t sure of what that meant for the two of them. He still didn’t feel great about the secret, even if he wasn’t angry anymore. He still wondered if this was all some kind of trial run to see if Peter would be a fit for association with the Stark name, that if he wasn’t smart enough or good enough in the lab Tony would have made other plans, or maybe never even told him.

 

The part of him eager to return to the Compound rolled its eyes at the notion but the other side...that was a kid who had always wanted to know who his father was but was afraid to find out. Afraid that maybe he’d known about Peter, he hadn’t wanted him and that was why his mom had kept it a secret.

 

His mom. Peter closed his eyes with another deep sigh, wincing as his lungs shifted the broken bones around them. Ambition had led her down a path none of them would have been able to follow and inevitably taken her from them. Tony could tell them more, of course, but that brought Peter back to the first issue.

 

He slipped his mask back on for a moment. “Hey, Karen, what time is it?”

 

“10:40. You’ve been on the roof for approximately 10 minutes.”

 

He nodded, shifting his body side to side to check on the damage. It still hurt---as it would for the next couple of days until the ribs healed---but it wasn’t as sharp and he’d probably be okay to hop the rooftops home in a few more minutes. He didn’t want to jostle it too bad either and risk puncturing anything internally.  
  


 _That_ would probably mean a visit from Mr. Stark...

 

\---was the thought he was having, just as his hearing picked up the sound of repulsors in the distance.

 

Peter frowned. “Karen, I thought I said not to send a report to Mr. Stark?”

 

“I followed your direction, Peter.”

 

Peter pulled the mask off again, brow furrowing as he pushed himself up off the ground with a wince. He let his gaze wander the dark expanse of the sky until he saw it, the glow of the boosters in the distant, and watched until he was able to make out the eyes from the faceplate as the Iron Man armor closed in.

 

What in the hell?

 

The suit landed on the roof with a resounding clank and quickly drew up in a standing position, the faceplate flipping back to reveal that yes, it was Mr. Stark in the flesh, stalking towards him.

 

And he looked...worried.

 

Mr. Stark looked _really_ worried, Peter realized dumbfoundedly. He was breathing heavily, and he stopped a few paces in front of Peter, eyes scanning up and down his body. 

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Still stunned, Peter nodded dumbly, then swallowed. “Um...what are you….what are you doing here?"

 

“Um well,” The armor made an awkward gesture, hand going up to the helmet as if to scratch his head before Tony realized what he was doing and frowned. “I got an alert that you’d gone dormant at a place that was not your apartment and I was unable to pull any diagnostics, so….”

 

Peter frowned. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever paused or taken a break during a patrol. “You’re spying on me?”

 

Tony scowled. “Not _spying_ , monitoring. I told you when I gave you the get up back that you’d be subject it.”

 

“You said I could turn it off.”

 

“I said you could turn _some_ of it off. I have some additional stuff running in the background.” His eyes narrowed. “What did you turn off?”

 

Peter rolled his eyes. What was the point of having control over it if he didn’t have the privacy of his decisions? “I just told Karen not to alert you.”

 

“Alert me about what?” Tony’s brows rose. “So something _did_ happen? You weren’t just hanging out here for kicks?” He huffed. “Explains why I couldn’t get a read on the status, though.”

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

“So nothing left you on a rooftop for 15 minutes?” Tony tilted his head, giving his son a curious look. He nodded at him. “Let me see.”

 

“No!” Peter jerked back, mortified as Tony reached for him.

 

A misguided decision.

 

Pain lashed through his side like a whip and he hissed, bending to the left, clutching at his side. Tony froze, hand in mid-air like a statue, and his eyes went wide.

 

“What? What?!” He straightened up. “What happened?”

 

"Nothing, it's nothing…"

 

"It's clearly something," Tony replied pointedly. "Are you gonna tell me or am I gonna have to go looking? I built the systems, I know where all the bodies are buried.”

 

Peter gave him a dirty look but sighed, all the same, hanging his head. "Um. I...well, I just...kind of busted up a couple of my ribs…"

 

“Did you now?” Tony asked tightly, mouth pulled taut at the corners. “And how pray tell, did that happen?”

 

Peter bit back a heavy sigh, staring at the man. Two texts in the last 10 days, after months of keeping that huge secret, and now Tony wanted to stand here as if Peter owed him something. 

 

“C’mon, spill,” Tony continued. “Or did you just “bust them” all by yourself?”

 

The alloyed suit looked odd making the air quotes gesture and honestly, all Peter wanted at this point was to get home, but he didn’t know if that was going to happen until he told Tony what he wanted to hear.

 

“Well...there were these guys, trying to steal a car…”

 

“Something tells me there’s more to this than that?”

 

“They had a lookout,” Peter said with a nod. “And I kind of….gothitbyacar.”

 

“Come again?” Tony brought a hand up near his ear. “Didn’t quite get that.”

 

“I got hit. By a car.” Peter gritted out. “Truck actually. I don’t think the specifics really matter.”

 

It didn’t seem to make a difference to Tony. He didn’t move or say anything for a few moments, he just...stared at Peter, very intensely, like he was considering all his options.

 

“I...thought we went over this. Don’t you…” Tony began, very controlled. “Don’t you have like a sixth sense or something when there are dangerous things about, something that is supposed to prevent this sort of thing?”

 

“I mean, kind of?”

 

“Kind of?!” Tony exclaimed.

 

“I thought it was about the guys trying to steal the car!” 

 

Tony’s eyes widened even more than Peter thought possible but then he closed them tightly immediately, exhaling heavily out of his nose.”Nevermind. Okay. Well. We need to make sure that there’s no internal---”

 

“I did already, Karen cleared me,” Peter interrupted. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine in a couple of days. I just stopped up here for a breather before heading home. Everything is fine.”

 

Tony gave him a measured look. “Okay. Karen cleared you. But fine is…”

 

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna go home and go to bed before May gets home from work. It’ll be fine.”

 

Peter could feel the heat rising in his face, felt as his heart began to beat hard in his chest. He didn’t miss the way Tony’s eye twitched a little when he called him “Mr. Stark” or the way they narrowed just a little at the bite his tone had taken on. He sniffed a little and tightened his grip on his side, the pressure helping to ease the pain just a little.

 

“Peter, I really think…”

 

“Could you _just go_?” 

 

The words had more heat behind them besides the mild irritation such a situation should produce and Tony straightened up jerkily. He held his hands up. 

 

“Okay...Okay, I'll…” He sighed, and his tone grew softer and lower. “Look, Pete. You can barely stand up straight. I know you heal fast and you’ll be fine in a couple of days, but right now, I don’t feel good leaving you to go the next couple blocks on your own. Please, let me help get you there.”

 

Peter was tired. He stared at the man in front of him, clad fully in armor, not having moved an inch. The truth was, Peter’s side _hurt_. The idea of even just climbing down off the roof and walking the couple blocks home didn’t sound appealing.

 

So he sighed.

 

“Fine,” Peter muttered. “Fine, sure. Just...drop me off on the fire escape near my bedroom window, I’ll climb in and go to bed.”

 

Tony relaxed with a sigh. “Okay. Okay good.” He didn’t make a move towards Peter though and seemed to take a moment to think over how exactly they were going to do this. His cheeks colored a little in the fall air and he looked a little shy. “Um. You’re okay with me carrying you?”

 

“Unless you’ve recently made groundbreaking strides in teleportation, I fail to see another option,” Peter grumbled, trying not to think about it too much. 

 

Peter almost immediately regretted the smart ass remark, but contrary to his expectations, Tony almost looked...amused. The faceplate slid back into place before the smile could completely unfurl and he stood up straight without a word. 

 

Resigned, Peter shuffled over to the armored figure and allowed himself to be picked up in a bridal style hold. The flight was brief---a couple of blocks spanning a couple of minutes, and ended with Tony gently setting him on the wiry grate outside his bedroom window. He stayed there, hovering for a moment as Peter worked the window open with a wince. 

 

“I’ll come up for a second if that’s okay. Just to make sure everything is…” Tony turned his hand over and over, a wordless elaboration, and Peter wasn’t crazy about that idea---there was still another hour or so until May would be home and he couldn’t imagine quite why Tony would want to stick around but he gave him a curt nod, reluctant to say no when he’d come all this way. 

 

It took him a few moments to get changed into pajama pants and an old shirt, gingerly bending and biting back groan until he managed to slide the suit under his bed into its hiding place. When he opened his bedroom door, Tony was there, waiting in the kitchen, sans the armor. He offered a weak smile.

 

“I hope it’s alright, let myself in. Found a spare key in the light fixture outside the door.”

 

Peter raised a brow. “Could’ve just knocked.” 

 

“Yeah, I waited a couple of minutes, but after about five minutes...” Tony explained, a little bashful. “Sorry, I figured since I'd said something…”

 

“It’s fine,” Peter replied tiredly. “I’m alright, I’m just tired and I didn’t want to make anything worse, so I took it slow. Did you...need anything? Like to eat or drink or something? Before heading back up to the compound?”

 

Tony shook his head. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You need any help patching up?”

 

The truth was, he probably did; it would probably be a good idea to get some ice packs on his side but he wasn’t going to ask for help. He’d figure it out, even if it may take more time; the idea of having his midsection bared and Tony helping him take care of himself was just...embarrassing.

 

“No, I'm just gonna beg off sick tomorrow. She has another shift that starts at noon. By Monday, I’ll be…”

 

“Fine,” Tony finished with a tight smile. “Got it. Well. I just wanted to make sure you were gonna get in okay, I know how that,” He gestured to the side. “Can be.”

 

A swelling sensation was starting to come upon Peter then, unrelated to his fractured ribs. He wasn’t sure of what to say---he knew he should thank Tony for the visit, for his help and his evident concern, but something stubborn inside of him holding all of that back. Tony was watching him, having not made a move towards the door, staring where Peter stood just outside his bedroom.

 

“Nice pants, by the way,” Tony remarked dryly, and Peter dropped his head to look down, realizing with a blush, that he’d grabbed the “Hello Kitty” patterned lounge pants Happy had bought him the day of the ferry debacle.

 

Humiliating, for sure; but incredibly comfortable.

 

Tony continued when Peter didn’t respond. “So maybe we can…” He shrugged. “Maybe next time May has a whole weekend booked you can come back up, get some lab time in?”

 

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d...be good.” He said weakly. “I’m…this weekend just...midterms were just…”

 

“Peter, you don’t have to explain anything,” Tony assured softly. “I can understand why you didn’t want to come to visit.”

 

Peter had to wonder, what would have happened without his set of cracked ribs. Would Tony have allowed him to go weeks or months without saying anything, would he have just stayed away? 

 

So many questions. So many questions Peter had about a lot of different things, and he was tired, and he didn’t want to have those questions anymore.

 

“Why did you lie to me?”

 

Tony stilled where he stood, half cloaked in the darkness of the living room. He didn’t move into the light, but he didn’t turn to flee towards the front door and Peter supposed that was something. 

 

“I didn’t...I didn’t mean to.” Tony began slowly, then started talking again really fast. “I mean, it wasn’t like, an accident. I wanted to tell you but it’s an awkward thing, you know, to tell someone. And after everything that happened, I just...wanted to make sure about some things.”

 

Peter’s heart sank. He may have suspected it, but to have Tony say it outright was surprising and stung more than Peter had expected to. He looked down at the floor with a nod and cleared his throat. 

 

 “Well,” Peter began softly. “Thank you for being honest. I can understand that it is a lot to deal with and it couldn't have been easy for you

 

Tony laughed. He _laughed_. “Me? I don’t really...Peter. Do you have any idea how terrifying it was to find out that the kid I had smuggled across international borders to fight my superhero buddies was not only just a teenager but also my own kid?” He barked out a short laugh again. “My brain kind of short-circuited. I had never actually had that happen before.” 

 

Peter looked back up at him and blinked. Once then twice, then tilted his head, suddenly confused. “Wait, what? So you weren’t...mad?”

 

Tony stared at him for a quiet moment. His expression softened. “Not...not really. At least--- _especially_ \--- not at you. It was just…I mean, it’s kind of a lot to take in. I would hope you could understand that.”

 

If anyone could, Peter thought, it would be him. It was a lot for him to take in to. Had been a lot for May, when she’d found out, every time she’d had to decide if they were going to try and contact the man. There was no easy about any of this. But Tony didn’t seem…angry about it, at all.

 

“Okay,” Peter began, scratching at the back of his head. He squinted. “Then I guess…I mean, I still don’t...why didn’t you just tell me?”

 

“I wanted to,” Tony admitted, then he shrugged. “At least, some part of me wanted to. But then ...there were a lot of variables. Your Aunt, for one----I promised her I’d make sure she was in the loop first. And then, the whole...Spiderman thing. After the ferry, you know, you and I weren’t on the best footing, so I figured, maybe we should re-establish all that…”

 

Tony was rambling. Peter shuffled over to the couch, lowering himself slowly against the arm of the chair, listening to the whole time. Tony touched on it all---the Avengers and the Accords, the company, Pepper and Happy and May and Peter himself, and just the nature of time.

 

It was actually almost starting to get philosophical and Peter was starting to zone out. 

 

Tony ended up just sighing. “Look, kid, I can be...an acquired taste,” Tony finished lamely. “I’m not exactly great with the openness and honesty thing, I’m better at deflection with some kind of quippy comments…so I don’t actually have a great answer for you other than I was just waiting for...what felt like the right time.”

 

Peter was peering up at him, Tony had settled onto a stool at their kitchen island. Through all the ramblings, it kind of started to fall into place and Peter found himself stifling a grin.

 

_I can be an acquired taste_

 

“Mr. Stark, were you worried I wasn’t going to... _like_ _you_?”

 

Tony flustered. “Hey, now, I ...didn't say that…” He finished weakly. He hung his head, indicated that it was actually, um, exactly that and he sighed. “I mean, come on kid. Absent dad your whole life. You didn’t seem crazy about the idea of the guy a couple of weeks ago, I wasn’t that far off the mark, right?”

 

“You’re Tony Stark!” Peter exclaimed, completely stunned. “You’re _Iron Ma_ n!! What do you mean---” He made a kind of crowing noise and covered his face with his hands.

 

“It’s not that funny,” Tony snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Hey. Come on. Kid, listen to _me_.”

 

Peter’s laughter tapered off at his steely tone and he looked up lazily, not sure what to expect. But Tony was looking at him straight on.

 

“I’m not…” He held his hands out in front of him, presenting. “I’m Tony Stark and Iron Man in public because I need to be. So I curate who that needs to be but the actual me? Who I am?” He laughed, almost painfully. “Peter, I’m a little bit of a mess.”

 

Peter sat up straighter, leaning closer to the arm of the couch. His expression became solemn. “Mr. Stark, I didn’t---”

 

“I mean, I’m not trying to cry poor little rich girl, kid, I’ve got it pretty good, but there are certain non-perks to this billionaire thing and one of those things is that who I am to the rest of the world is not who I am to people like Hap, or Pepper or Rhodey.” He paused. “And I just wasn’t sure that guy is someone you’d really like.”

 

Oh, this was killing him. Peter could tell it was killing him, because Tony had a hand clenched around his right wrist now, just like how he did that day at the Ferry, and his mouth was drawn into a grimace. 

 

“Mr. Stark, that wasn’t…” His mouth twisted into a grin. “Mr. Stark, your whole public persona thing, I know that's not...like who you are when it's just us. And he’s pretty easy to see through.”

 

“I don’t appreciate you insulting my acting skills.”

 

“I like you, Mr. Stark. Just fine.” Peter smiled. “I’d like to get to know you more, though. Without all the secrets.”

 

“Me too, kid,” Tony smiling back, releasing his arm and leaned his elbows forward onto his knees. “So let’s start there. What did you mean earlier when you said you understood if this was hard for _me_?”

 

Peter’s ears burned. “Oh. Nothing. Just...I mean, what you said…”

 

“You seemed like you expected to hear me say that,” Tony looked at him curiously. “I gotta wonder if you had some thoughts about this too.”

 

Peter’s gaze found his lap. He felt silly now about his insecure assumption. Of course, May had been right; there had been something else, that it hadn’t been that Tony was making him prove he was worthy of being in Tony’s life. 

 

And he wasn’t especially keen on admitting to that after all of this.

 

“I just...wasn’t sure you wanted to be...that, you know. That person, to me.” Peter explained. 

 

“And why wouldn’t anyone want that, kid?” Tony smiled. “Didn’t I tell you that it was his... _my_ loss, back during that talk?”

 

Peter’s chest burned. It was like an explosion, tendrils of warmth worming its way throughout his torso, absolving the pain, threatening to bubble into a laugh. He looked up at Tony then looked away.

 

“I was worried,” Peter admitted finally. “That maybe you would think I wasn’t...cut out to be...you know. A Stark.”

 

Peter couldn’t bear to bring himself to look up. His fingers fiddled with the drawstrings of the ridiculous pants he was wearing. He heard Tony shuffle to his feet. Peter closed his eyes, waiting to hear the door close, almost expecting that Tony might actually leave but then he felt the couch cushion sink next to him. 

 

“Peter,” Tony’s voice was soft. “Peter, can you look at me?”

 

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and lifted his head, slowly opening his eyes. Tony was sitting there, a forearms length away, a gentle smile on his face. 

 

“Hey.” Tony grinned wider but sad. “So. Let’s just…” He shook his head. “There is no universe that could exist that you would fall short of that name. It would always be the other way around. Let’s get that straight, first and foremost.”

 

Peter’s mouth had gone dry. “Mr. Stark----,” 

 

“Nah, I’m not…” Tony held up a hand. “I’m not done.” He took a moment. He sighed and he continued. “Everything I have ever touched, I’ve almost destroyed.” Tony began softly. “I almost killed Pepper, in Miami. If she wouldn’t have been infected with Extremis, she would have been dead, no question, it’s the only thing that saved her. Rhodey,” He choked a little. “Rhodey’s paralyzed. He’ll never walk again without those braces. And your mom….”

 

“Mom made her decision,” Peter intoned dully. “I talked to Aunt May. I know what she was doing.”

 

“You’re not your mom. And you’re definitely not me, thank god,” Tony insisted. “But I dragged you into this. I came and took you to _Europe_ and gave you that suit, and I don’t think I realized until that day on the Ferry...like I don’t think I fully realized what I was doing to a _kid_. And that’s the whole reason I took the suit. I was not comfortable with being that person.”

 

“But somehow it’s different now.”

 

“Yeah,” Tony replied sharply, focused, intense. He was staring at Peter so intensely, that Peter wanted to look away but could not, so entirely ensnared. “Yeah, it’s different now. Because you getting hurt as, like, my mentee….I already liked you kid; I was not okay with that.” He scoffed. “And now, you’re...mine?” Tony shook his head.

 

He paused for a moment, and when he continued, Peter was struck at how low and almost pained Tony sounded. “You almost died, Peter. You could have died, on that beach. Peter, I cannot explain to you how that phone call went with Happy because I honest to God think I blacked out for a few seconds when I was yelling at him.”

 

“So it is different because I’m your kid?”

 

Tony nodded, completely earnest. Peter felt numb at the shock of it. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s entirely different. I’m about a thousand times more worried and panicked about this than I was in September, and I was pretty worried then. And I feel kind of shitty about that Peter, but then I don’t. Because you’re my kid. You’re _my_ kid.” He swallowed. "There's a part of me that didn't want to give you back the suit, but I know you're not gonna stop. So that suit and the other suit---" Tony looked at him pointedly, an unspoken intimation that the other suit was clearly preferable right now. "I feel like I can...protect you a little more. I hope that’s alright. And so that’s why I showed up tonight. And why I'm probably gonna show up again. I’m gonna kind of be around more because I wasn’t before. And I didn’t tell you that because...I was scared you weren’t gonna like me. And that was dumb. And wrong. And it was never because I didn’t think you weren’t going to be... _enough_.”

 

Peter felt like he was on fire.

 

“Pete?”

 

“That’s,” He croaked. “Nice.”

 

Tony had the audacity to chuckle, just a little. “Well, I'm glad to hear it.” Very slowly, he placed a hand on Peter’s knee and he squeezed. “Are you doing okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Peter said, somewhat dry. “ Yeah, I’m... I’m alright.”

 

“Peter, can I give you a hug?”

 

And Peter nodded because he wasn’t sure what else to say.

 

Tony was conscious of his side as he pulled Peter in gently against him, holding him up. Peter bent his face into Tony’s neck and they sat there for a few moments in silence.

 

“May is going to be home soon,” Peter finally said weakly, pulling back with a little bit of a laugh. “I’m not trying to kick you out…”

 

Tony laughed. “No, I get it. I just want to make sure that we’re all on the same page.” Tony settled into a grin. “We on the same page, Parker?”

 

Peter settled back against the arm of the chair, a sheepish grin on his face. “Same page, Mr. Stark.”

 

“And am I going to be able to convince you to maybe call me Tony anytime soon or----”

 

Peter laughed softly. “I’ll work on it?”

 

“It’s all I ask.” 

 

Tony pushed himself up off the couch. He insisted that he be allowed to help Peter up off the couch and back into his room, before leaving in search of an ice pack. It left Peter sitting on his bed, waiting awkwardly for him to return. Peter didn't want May finding out about his side, so it would be better if he was asleep, or at least appeared to be, before she was home. He had enough time to settle in but if she got home and Tony was here, she'd have questions for sure.

 

He reappeared in the doorway, pack in hand, wrapped in a towel. He handed it to Peter and stepped back, shoving a hand in the pocket of his pants. "Okay. If you're all good, I'm gonna get out of here. Plan on seeing you soon, I hope."

 

Peter nodded. He felt a little like a child being tucked in for the night, something that hadn't happened in a long time, but it was strangely comforting. "Um. Thanks again for...helping me. I really appreciate---"

 

Tony was frowning at him again. He sighed. "You're welcome, Pete, but you really don't need to thank me. Like I said, I'm gonna be watching out more whether you want me to or not, it's kind of part of the deal now."

 

"I know," Peter smiled sheepishly. "And I'm glad we...talked about it. I just know all of this is unexpected and it's gonna change---"

 

"Peter," Tony interrupted softly, reassuring. "Change isn't a bad thing. Unexpected as it may be..." He stepped closer to Peter's bed. Hesitantly, he reached out slowly, touching Peter's chin, tilting his head up. He smiled softly.

 

"A surprise, Pete," And it brought to Peter's mind the memory of their talk weeks before, about his mom and about his patchwork family, and a lump lodged at the base of his throat. "The best surprise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no excuses. this is super fluff and kinda after school specialy and I'm not sorry at all lol. COMMUNICATION. anyway. there's to be one more chapter, an epilogue basically, and then I have two sequels to this planned, so keep a look out for that. again, no beta so please point out any glaring or distracting errors, I 100% don't mind that lol


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